I awaken in darkness
still terrified and running
from the mountain lion.
But what if I’m the prey
of my own judging
captive of my comparisons?
At times I feel those verdicts in my gut
like when I can’t concentrate on a task
I SHOULD be doing.
When I notice my tight gut
and my mind wanting to flee
I can stop trying
and lying to myself
set my imagination free
roam a wilderness I choose
like right here on the flat and fertile plains
of this poem’s lines.
Sep 21, 2021
Sep 21, 2021 at 2:15 PM UTC
I awaken in darkness
still terrified and running
from the mountain lion.
But what if I’m the prey
of my own judging
captive of my comparisons?
At times I feel those verdicts in my gut
like when I can’t concentrate on a task
I SHOULD be doing.
When I notice my tight gut
and my mind wanting to flee
I can stop trying
and lying to myself
set my imagination free
roam a wilderness I choose
like right here on the flat and fertile plains
of this poem’s lines.
I used to MAKE myself read this or that out of duty or responsibility or just my own judgements that I SHOULD be reading this. But today I decided to stop that foolishness, read a poem or two here on this site, and just let my imagination roam. The word wilderness popped up out of nowhere. So I rode it and let it take me. The above is the result. Writing poetry frees me.
