Witching hours,
just after night’s deep,
demons, ghosts
sleep; most
still unaware.
It’s then when
my mind awakens,
wanders through truth,
what has been,
what dreams could be.
Four to six, A.M.,
precious, peaceful time—
creativity
bursts; best
moments mine.
And the dim gleam grows
If we simply trust
The shimmer over the shadows
Meeting where “Your insightis imperative,”but participationis optional. “Let’s catch upsoon,” shared bypeople passingin echoing hallways. “Love, love, love whatyou did there,”praising mediocrework. “Your email must havefound its wayto the abyss ofmy inbox,” a common tale. “No offense but…”often prefacesunsolicitedperspectives. “Take your time,there’s absolutelyno hurry,”with deadlines whispering. “Just jesting,”comes after,softeningsharp words. “I’ll ponder over it,”a placeholder,while…
Whenever asked
“How are you?”
I think.
Is it fate?My destiny?Scribbled in the stars—faraway stars,those unreachable stars—that guide my stepsalong paths—dark paths I do not choose. Is it fate?My life,simply a game of chance,predetermined,played like a pawn,beyond my control. No.My fateis not written:the stars dragging mereluctantlythrough life. I am my own captain,guided by that one true star,and each step I take—however small,…
My words sat patiently–craving attention.
I wander foreign paths, searching for truth. Truth INever notice on more familiar roads. I knowWisdom is often unearthed when listening. Listening To whispers. Whispers of the voiceless. What I seekHides in soft songs crickets sing under crescent moon.I’m listening. I’m carefully listening. ProudTo hear, to recognize the simple strikes, the simple sparksSeized through scholarship,…
