"sondering" poems - Hello Poetry

Live in your bubble By all means But everyone has a bubble And everyone has dreams A kick of curiosity Can send a mind speeding With a screaming ferocious velocity And you realise everyone has a bubble. You sonder. Over 7 billion bubbles. You will never access them all But each struggle and hardship Will be made easier if you fall To sonder, such a beautiful feeling, Will send that fall right back into healing. So please, sonder, sonder and wander and expose your bubble. In the hope that someone else is sondering too, And will experience the world, Just like you.

0

Feb 7, 2014

Feb 7, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC

poet-no-1-billion

To Sonder

Live in your bubble By all means But everyone has a bubble And everyone has dreams A kick of curiosity Can send a mind speeding With a screaming ferocious velocity And you realise everyone has a bubble. You sonder. Over 7 billion bubbles. You will never access them all But each struggle and hardship Will be made easier if you fall To sonder, such a beautiful feeling, Will send that fall right back into healing. So please, sonder, sonder and wander and expose your bubble. In the hope that someone else is sondering too, And will experience the world, Just like you.

18

An empath Just a ProSonderer Nothing more But quick to learn every human’s soul will be instinctively felt just as the breeze flows through that open window A soul it’s wandering to your heart’s beat on rare occasion it deviates from the tune nothing more —Because you don’t acknowledge its existence yet; Could you truly expect to progress in finding your soul’s mate when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?— A pair of souls is always made from a single star so when you find another that renders your talkative self speechless or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache when you're longing not only at midnight but in public midday for that other if its a flame that just won't fade no matter how long you stay tell yourself to not push this one away you're not in danger anymore let that person breach your barricades allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways you'll soon stop automatically encouraging them to go the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door chances are you'll find nothing's worth more then an empath finding their lone star soul in their own time And as a sondering empath I understand having that (impenetrably -fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch- translucent but sporadically opaque) guard with others Seems like a darkly humored folklore a normal person’s usual day is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion but when you meet that one you won't just understand their soul you'll have a brand new reading and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing just remember there's a first time for everything when that someone intuitively understands you.

0

Jan 23, 2018

Jan 23, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC

volva

Curse of the Empath

An empath Just a ProSonderer Nothing more But quick to learn every human’s soul will be instinctively felt just as the breeze flows through that open window A soul it’s wandering to your heart’s beat on rare occasion it deviates from the tune nothing more —Because you don’t acknowledge its existence yet; Could you truly expect to progress in finding your soul’s mate when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?— A pair of souls is always made from a single star so when you find another that renders your talkative self speechless or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache when you're longing not only at midnight but in public midday for that other if its a flame that just won't fade no matter how long you stay tell yourself to not push this one away you're not in danger anymore let that person breach your barricades allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways you'll soon stop automatically encouraging them to go the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door chances are you'll find nothing's worth more then an empath finding their lone star soul in their own time And as a sondering empath I understand having that (impenetrably -fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch- translucent but sporadically opaque) guard with others Seems like a darkly humored folklore a normal person’s usual day is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion but when you meet that one you won't just understand their soul you'll have a brand new reading and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing just remember there's a first time for everything when that someone intuitively understands you.

54

Our complexity is what we think separates us from everyone else, our vivid dreams seem so different yet ultimately meant to collapse into one.

0

Apr 11, 2021

Apr 11, 2021 at 1:44 PM UTC

wordsunboxed

Sondering Around

Our complexity is what we think separates us from everyone else, our vivid dreams seem so different yet ultimately meant to collapse into one.

4

at the end of the day, with my illusions at bay, when bound to obey a truth so gray — i travel the depths with sondering footsteps, to see if they help or merely cast a vignette of eclectic readings, and years of heeding the lives preceding; still bleeding — like a pair of lips, torn at the tips in sorrow’s grips; hardly equipped — to deal with ‘the self’ blowing dirt off bookshelves, too dry to spell the thought of oneself.

0

Feb 24, 2025

Feb 24, 2025 at 11:31 AM UTC

dead_poet

the self

at the end of the day, with my illusions at bay, when bound to obey a truth so gray — i travel the depths with sondering footsteps, to see if they help or merely cast a vignette of eclectic readings, and years of heeding the lives preceding; still bleeding — like a pair of lips, torn at the tips in sorrow’s grips; hardly equipped — to deal with ‘the self’ blowing dirt off bookshelves, too dry to spell the thought of oneself.

20

It starts very slowly As slow as the snow that first falls on the top of a mountain The snow keeps falling slowly Each flake of pureness falls and becomes still sitting waiting One single speck of snow that falls on the sondering pile becomes a burden Everything breaks Silence breaks and the sounds of crashing and crackling of sticks and twigs. The trees are taken away by the still pure beauty of mother nature. The silent snow and all of it's stillness becomes a ravishing and destructive force in the matter of seconds Nothing stays still Nothing stays beautiful

0

Dec 12, 2014

Dec 12, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC

carpediemsunshinee

Nothing Stays

It starts very slowly As slow as the snow that first falls on the top of a mountain The snow keeps falling slowly Each flake of pureness falls and becomes still sitting waiting One single speck of snow that falls on the sondering pile becomes a burden Everything breaks Silence breaks and the sounds of crashing and crackling of sticks and twigs. The trees are taken away by the still pure beauty of mother nature. The silent snow and all of it's stillness becomes a ravishing and destructive force in the matter of seconds Nothing stays still Nothing stays beautiful

13

Khepera rose from her couch of snow—lonely woe washing over her like a persistent crow. as the night struck her face with its gleaming light. she tied her hair and walked into the night, smiling at strangers with reluctant delight. walking upon the bumpy path—her thoughts mislaid, lost within the loudness of the parade, her eyes roaming the leering unfamiliar eyes — Khonsu sat in the back of his cold sedan. curses hurled from his father like a shattered romance. the night sky laid gentle comfort along his skin—a silence soft where screams had been. Khonsu treaded down the crowded lane, his cold fingers clutching at his blouse like hushed whispers of pain—his thoughts casted about, his gaze sondering upon people. Within the crowd—their eyes both knew, a silent connection as if a secret rendezvous. Khepera’s gaze softened as her steps slowed, sighed softy and smiled with a gentle familiarity—hands sewed together as both of their smiles growed Khonsu tensely brushed Khepera’s autumn draped hair away from her pale moonlit cheek, and with unpracticed ease—laying a kiss as holy as mary onto her cheek. Khepera smiled and in silent victory—reached up her jittery hand to cradle his cheek of rose kissed ivory, her lips inching closer, laying a kiss onto his cheek. “You have my heart” she whispered. “you have all of me.”

0

May 15, 2025

May 15, 2025 at 10:14 PM UTC

strving_23angelic

Strangers in the Night

Khepera rose from her couch of snow—lonely woe washing over her like a persistent crow. as the night struck her face with its gleaming light. she tied her hair and walked into the night, smiling at strangers with reluctant delight. walking upon the bumpy path—her thoughts mislaid, lost within the loudness of the parade, her eyes roaming the leering unfamiliar eyes — Khonsu sat in the back of his cold sedan. curses hurled from his father like a shattered romance. the night sky laid gentle comfort along his skin—a silence soft where screams had been. Khonsu treaded down the crowded lane, his cold fingers clutching at his blouse like hushed whispers of pain—his thoughts casted about, his gaze sondering upon people. Within the crowd—their eyes both knew, a silent connection as if a secret rendezvous. Khepera’s gaze softened as her steps slowed, sighed softy and smiled with a gentle familiarity—hands sewed together as both of their smiles growed Khonsu tensely brushed Khepera’s autumn draped hair away from her pale moonlit cheek, and with unpracticed ease—laying a kiss as holy as mary onto her cheek. Khepera smiled and in silent victory—reached up her jittery hand to cradle his cheek of rose kissed ivory, her lips inching closer, laying a kiss onto his cheek. “You have my heart” she whispered. “you have all of me.”

11