Waiting for Change

Spring spring, waiting, nearly,
come come, almost really,
am I, will I, should I,
Why this constant constant inner aching?
What oh what stirs my inner making?
Thought think mutter fumble,
rumble rumble, foolish grumble.

Go go horrid winter,
Chance to seek our hidden hinter?
Ha, you say, best left unseen,
lol, yes, maybe never been?
Like the season, serves its part,
entered deep in loving Heart
the key, as is reflective time,
a path of purpose, I now must climb.

Warm warm cosy comfort heat
my world, my focus, oh my treat
where’s my mind, where’s my soul,
what I’m missing to heal me whole
Cold cold, you have no hold
I can, I will, I must, I shall
erase all chill from gloom’s locale.

Wishing wishing steals my now
wanting wanting absent how
why why I want to know
must I endure my sorrow’s snow
why why do I, project as fear
a constant almost, coming near.

Insisting I insist on wanting
wanting what’s to come
feeling lost with what I feel
desires dumbing what’s already numb
yet here I am, spinning spinning Life’s wicked Wheel,
round and round the glorious more,
falling failing, Hope’s revolving door.

But but, it’s here, it’s in this very front
I find and know my longer hunt,
Wanting wanting soothing not
no no, evades my what.

A shifting grasp of promise yonder
On this on this I have to ponder,
why why refuse to yield
never finding to-be-healed
object reject fearful awful truth
inward lurks an inner sleuth
relentless, thwarted, wasted youth
avoidance cultured, most uncouth.

I am, I want, and I desire
supple soothing inner fire
enough enough to burn me hot
if I but only, can allot,
to me, what’s not my not.


Waiting For Change

#Poetry #Fiction #WaitingForSpring #SylPoem #InnerChange


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