vapors swirl
permeating the valleys
of my small stillness
their breath is sweet
and heavy
with such surreal awareness
so gently attached
the blankets of ideas
lay all around
unwrinkled
across my knotted psyche
my inner self feels so swollen
and closed
which makes my head ache
likely from that sickness which does
not originate from the physical
as much pain doth the wreathing
spirit give
sustain me with guidance and love
and my morrow shall spring
eternal growth.............
(Dec. 29, 2014 910am)
Author's Notes/Comments:
This hailed from my being sick. I felt at times clogged up not just with cold but my word flow was affected as well. It was a bit disconcerting as I knew it was because I was sick that I was not writing. I thought about hardly anything at all. I mostly slept, took medicines for the cold, lay around a lot as I felt so much better covered up and warm. I ate when I got hungry, drank a lot of water and other fluids like hot tea and orange juice and I watched a lot of reruns on television to distract myself from how bad I felt when I could not sleep anymore. This poem helped me to rid myself of that feeling of being cognitively clogged. Enjoy. M.