There is nothing I can leave
that I can’t find again.
Even love can come and go.
I need not clutch a friend.
Mountain, cloud
Lake or tree.
They will be wherever I am.
I need not stay for them or you.
I can always find one again.
My head has tired of this pillow,
My body of this bed.
My eyes have tired of this sky.
My feet of this dead end.
My mind has tired of these thoughts
Of weary discontents.
I try to run, but they catch up
As soon as I tire again.
One of my favorite things about poetry: I know the poet had something specific in mind, such as an incident or idea, when writing the poem, but I can still gain something from reading it, even if I have no clue what that something specific is.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, that doesn't allow much room for interesting blog comments...
Oh well. Good poem. Hope all is well. :)