deepundergroundpoetry.com
Plexus
The woman who lives in this house is lost
like myself
Her interests are endless yet her tastes are quite clear
like myself
Her heart is hung on many walls and it's really quite novel to see where her style meets her softness
Like Myself
She requires a means to an end, so as to extend or discover variety in her soul's theatre
Like Myself
It's a line
It's a box
It's a wheel
It's all three
A beautiful tree
Just like Me
like myself
Her interests are endless yet her tastes are quite clear
like myself
Her heart is hung on many walls and it's really quite novel to see where her style meets her softness
Like Myself
She requires a means to an end, so as to extend or discover variety in her soul's theatre
Like Myself
It's a line
It's a box
It's a wheel
It's all three
A beautiful tree
Just like Me
Published 8th Oct 2019
Author's Note
The story is an old one. We all participate in the chatter and the mire. We all love sunrises and sunsets. But we transform when we choose to believe and trust in whatever our soul is creating for us.
It's endless.
Just like you and me.
It's endless.
Just like you and me.
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8th Oct 2019 7:17pm
dearest poet I love the tree metaphor for the soul
great inking...
love Brenda ❤
great inking...
love Brenda ❤
9th Oct 2019 8:58am
~<3
...in case you're wondering...its a heart balloon. A gift for your kind words.
...in case you're wondering...its a heart balloon. A gift for your kind words.
