Silence
I do not have a question right now--
How can I write a poem without it?
My spirit is still like waveless water,
Whose turmoil only would lift up verses...
Thus, I am lounging in the quietness of my soul;
I could open doors to let the winds come in,
So I could write about bad weather...
But no, I let the quiet sink in,
And listen...
Comments
Post a Comment