elegant sentiment

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rebelwithafrog/5828278565/

bedew, elegant sentiment.

drooping into nightness, wherefore vigor and freshness spent in task.
become somnolent. coolness, darkness, all but shade and blades of grass;
sustaining the white noise of night i am absorbing all quiet.

doth fully still; my soul pulsates, my breath confesses desire.

and heavenly dew finds me, my jaded nooks and tattered cranies
patient dew, quench my folly, douse my sullied conscious, settle thee
i accept thy lingering bath, saturated and washed of haste.

elegant sentiment, refreshed.


Author's Note:
I spent so many years wallowing in discomfort. A struggle at times to feel normal, and writing about it. Seemingly to always be looking back at the pain. Even when looking forward to something in the future. I know discomfort awaits; i know when and where. Some time ago I started concentrating on wallowing in relaxation. Striving for the situation to harmony. How does one get there? You don’t. You are just there, like the dew. Dew just is. When all conditions are right, dew will collect on everything outside. I can’t demand peace of mind, freedom from discomfort or absence of want. I can however, get outside of my head and prepare myself mentally to allow for dew and a peace of mind to enter. This elegant sentiment is an exercise in that preparation.


I shall share this poem with acquaintances and strangers. I shall read the poem out loud. I shall ask them to walk across the dew in the morning without haste.