deepundergroundpoetry.com
My search for magnetic north
Its illusiveness
lost in the snow that drives,
a cosy fire, I can smell its burning logs
a trace of woody notes
the damper of doubt, backdraft of smoke
brings tears, but some power winds the spring,
even if, I can only glimpse a glow of hope
transience like sparks, that crack and fade away to nowt.
Fields out there unseen
trusting my inner compass needle, of self that must find orientation
and guide me to the warm heart(h) side,
of my own possibilities
lost in the snow that drives,
a cosy fire, I can smell its burning logs
a trace of woody notes
the damper of doubt, backdraft of smoke
brings tears, but some power winds the spring,
even if, I can only glimpse a glow of hope
transience like sparks, that crack and fade away to nowt.
Fields out there unseen
trusting my inner compass needle, of self that must find orientation
and guide me to the warm heart(h) side,
of my own possibilities
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