Imagine, if one could
A broken limb in the woods
Or a moist drip suspended
Timeless from an eave, a river
Out of its race, overflowing the bank
On a windless night some April eve
The moonless sky lit only by sparks,
Or a lovers sigh, a beckoning of might. A pack of wolves, a mountains power, the depths of life on the edge of doom,
The borders of a kingdom never crossed, those little things are all of us.
Just our normal daily trespasses when we've charged our life to poetry.
As warriors we go forth armed or not, into a battle never won but fought
Ruthless one would imagine the toll
But never naught for a wandering soul