Sagacious words

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary. ~ Khalil Gibran

Friday, 17 August 2012

Inner Calm

The cuts of a chilly breeze,
Awaken the sleeping mind;
Like the heart that steels itself,
Against screeching bouts of pain,

In the weirdness of all new ways,
The frozen mind makes a space,
Inside of every memory blinded,

In effect, the place becomes
A new ascension of the soul-
As the heart grows wings;
In the cold comfort of now,

It picks up on the growing serenity
And gives in, to an obscure patience
Which from the dawn of all living;

Grows away upwards,
Towards higher ground,
To be inside healing smiles
And on top of calm clouds.


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