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Every day I
See more clearly
From my perch
Atop the river.
I watch its
Constant motion
Ever flowing,
Truly, never done.
Some days I float too
Buoyed by peace and
Directed by confidence.
Other days I imagine a
Deep, dark, dungeon;
A current
Pulling me under.
The pulsing pressure
Gives the illusion of
Potential breath
That never comes.
Then I know
I am lost.
Not a lost soul
But a loving soul lost
In the world of mind,
Ego,
Story…
Written for the prompt “floating” at One Single Impression, take your inner tube and float on over there for great poems. Thanks to Loch Rob for this week’s prompt.
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What an honest take on the prompt, Dances–
I wonder though, is the movement between the floating and the dungeon not a breath of its own? A life-enhancing dance? Maybe not, but reading your poem again, it seems like a movement that is so natural to you. Maybe your ego just wants you to resist your natural states and make up stories about them?
Thank you for this.
This is such a familiar flow of thoughts and musings.
A beautiful poem…I feel like its the tug of life pulling us and we are all floating. The imagery is beautiful in this piece. And the poem flows very nicely.
mm hypnotic water
Ah the flip sides. Provocative.
Two separate worlds, somehow. I know the feeling. The movement between the surface and the dungeon is a strange, dark magic that shocks and startles. And yet, we release the breath, and we rise again.
I like the open ended ending. One gets to finish their own story. You lead us down the garden path and set us free! Both options are there. Which will we choose?