I remember the wind chimes on Euclid Heights Boulevard
The place I fell in love in and equally fell out of life in
I was dreaming, dreaming, dreaming
Watch the drying cement they called -
I had not noticed them working
I was so absorbed in being - living the dream
Funny really, how it barely seemed I loved anything enough to stay
I was running, running, running
Perhaps now I have come to a stop I am free to love things more
An open window, a fresh sheet of paper - a tin of coloured pencils
They all make me smile - feel as if I am moving - not wandering
Perhaps I am enjoying my days a little more
Leaving my own footprints on the ground -
Neither follower or followed
I take a sip of tea on a new morning -
Perhaps this is what I love - this moment, this place inside
A sense of distance from what was
And a clear head to make my own path.
A lovely hopeful poem. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteAll those things sound well worth loving! The immediacy of your descriptions puts me right there wth you.
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of moving, not as an aimless wanderer but as someone gravitating towards the seemingly little pleasures of life that are actually quite wondrous when appreciated.
ReplyDeleteA lovely poem, Jae .. stopping, feeling free, owning your creativity .. I feel it in your poetry. The tin of coloured pencils ~~ are you an artist as well as a poet?
ReplyDelete"An open window, a fresh sheet of paper - a tin of coloured pencils" oh you bring me right there in the moment with you What a wonderful poem
ReplyDeleteA sip of tea on a new morning...a gift....a saving grace.
ReplyDeleteThis is fine grounding,and I too am munching on the wisdom of your words.
ReplyDelete"feel as if I am moving - not wandering " - An important distinction!
ReplyDelete