How I detest the lull in forward measure,
those sighs of ‘too much’ felt,
that slow my ascent, the expansion of mind,
a time to recovery, perhaps realign
and consider where I am.
That feeling is stagnancy,
yet often I may move so fast
I cannot last and still I must be, to see
I’m in need of quiet contemplation,
to bring my machinations to order.
And in those times I realize
the words that try to pacify me,
are needed, to imbibe their meaning,
not just grasp them from thin air,
but understand their delivery.
My mind is one step ahead of me,
and the blur of speed does not make me better see,
yet I process on the run,
enlightenment like sparks the sun has spat
in my direction.
I know too much
and carelessly trip over the spewing of it,
each truth like the words of my dictionary,
meanings and grasp exemplary,
yet this lull, this time out I need, in the melding.
And so often I am exhausted,
unable to face the day
the world of pain upon my shoulders,
each cry, each sufferance my own,
if I look too long at the sun.
So maybe I need rest,
need stillness and quiet to manifest what I,
rely upon to sustain this gifted sight,
but when will rest demand much more,
when world may shatter my very core,
and cease this mind to breathe?
Tony DeLorger © 2016
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