Curious by nature,
and drawn by hope
we push forward
spring ourselves
from the mud-mired
traps of psychological
undoings
focus on a horizon
where sunrises
and sunsets
offer glimpses of glory
optimist and pessimist
alike, daring to believe
that the beckoning future
bears equal promise.
(This poem started with a few lines scribbled in the middle of the night. To see the writing process, visit me at One Woman’s Quest II.)
That how mine start these days
Just with a few lines……those few lines can go on for days until they find a spot in amongst the lines
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Ah yes…those stragglers. The mind of a poet! Thanks for commenting.
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Powerful poem, V. When do you normally write poems? At night?
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Sometimes they hover around me at bedtime. I try to write every morning though.
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