With the hand of the clock, ticking
for more.
Light narrows the hours
and a pendulum sets into motion.
Braver than the midnight gong brave.
A soul of parchment is translucent
at dawn.
Every colour before the sun rises
touches the centre with soft warmth.
A friend or foe, each thought
must be determined
before driving out the latter.
To dwell in darkness though a
midday sun shines on the awning?
A kiss on the cheek of fears
at the leavetaking of each
acknowledged.
No longer the knee-jerk reactions.
Base instincts have slept in the
wake of awareness.
Jenneth Graser
Artist - Norman Duenas
Beautiful poetry Jenneth. Love how we can all read our own story, questions and answers in your poetry. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Lisa! I always so value your depth of insight. May this be a very blessed week ahead
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