You might not consider me swift because realm 
of words has an easy and unhurried pace; 
its beauty unspoiled, 
is as though a rose that grows from concrete– 
it provokes courage, 
I should know,
it has taken me years to recognize the muse as it is. 

‘All forms of dreaming come only after  
you leap,’ a lovely notion,  
if one chooses to adhere to the statement seriously. 
On soft, insistent questioning of the muse, 
I part curtains of thought, 
leap between melting shadows and source 
of light— of course, it isn’t easy 
but would you rather be lost 
in a ravine with a stagnant ditch? 

One must allow themselves to be stripped 
of everything  
that they believe they know and once followed, 
otherwise, clouds reddening in the east 
will scud before the wind. 
I am inebriated with wanderlust, 
for life is full of possibilities and 
words are just one of many 
doorways to achieving what doubt brushes 
away with fingertips. 

I flirt with the muse and hope for a reciprocal comment
or gesture, 

and see snow thawing in the sun, 
horses galloping quickly,
and on both sides of the road, barley fields and villages; 

trust me, when I say that it’s a sight to behold. 
I am not afraid of element of risk,  
rather I find it is something to smile about. 
I am half out of my mind with emotion. 

 

 

 

 

Photo Credits: Pinterest 

Lisa is our lovely hostess at dVerse where she invites us to write inspired by
the concept of leaping. Come join us! 🩷

Posted for Poetics: Poets Leaping @dVerse Poets Pub