Muse |
Muse |
Rising as the body breathes, In and out the leaves Like a winding thought Taking flight To a soaring height. Scattered as seeds on a furrowed cloud Shimmering by on a pure thought Carried innocent as the grass blows Unassuming, unquestioning, Unconditional Beauty. Arrow heads shower the sky, Darting Between the parting of a breeze Swirling through the air with ease To a song of peace. In perpetual motion, A centrifugal notion unfolds the mind Blossoming in fluid iron filings Undulating on a moorish wave. Slate against the sky, fragmented; A grey hue, cracked like rock Ribboned with lichen stars In a mosaic formation That crumbles still, eternal. The eyes of this storm Glisten black as the night falls On the lungs bursting out in bark Branching further into the dark, It settles as dusk dies into the soil. Originally written June 2020, age 24
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Ideas scurry on by as I try to recapture a strain Of thought quite gone from its spring That it was as if it grew wings and Took flight to fight my addled brain For more thinking and, blinking, I try to recall that juicy pool of philosophy That I had dipped my neural toes into and Followed a notion that puffed out, scratching Its way from my brain, running down my fingers And onto the page, where it remained scribbled Until with a fresh mind and dewy eyes Strangers read again as it lingers, Gnawing at their senses as fur stands, Brushed over, and squeaking it plucks On a cheesy note of a heartstring, Where a zesty end lands, Wrapped in tales and pricked ears That creep quietly by and rest, Waiting for another time to rise, Or to be stroked dead in the pocket of peers. © Copyright 2020
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AuthorSamantha is a doctoral researcher researching the power of figurative language in advertising, social media, and mobile technology. Copyright © 2022
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