DOWNSTREAM
I am trying to get past the mundane,
Groping for meaning is my visible task.
I resent the autumn for setting in
Before I find the needed answers.
My body close to shutting down,
The colors in my face are pale and doubtful.
The waters are all rippling
In anticipation of winter.
Looking for a reason to stay alive
Is the fundamental venture
Straining the mind past its usual heights
Watching the birds on their southward flights.
Wondering if they find new meanings
On the shores where they alight
Or if it's just boredom and the chill
That keeps them from remaining still.
No one calls the bird a mundane creature
There is a reason somewhere
That keeps me searching for my place.
There is a reason that guides me
Makes me surrender to the thrill of this dream
Keeps me drifting forever downstream
Groping for meaning
Amidst cool and stationary rocks.
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2024
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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