To write of love spreads love.
To write of hate spreads hate.
Energy unseen, what we think of,
what we think of we create.*
Even the tenant of writing a story -
to be considered a story at all -
there must be tension in all it's glory.
First thrust love to the wall.
In the end if love has won,
it is only by the edge.
Do we think so little of humanity?
Are we bored not on this ledge?
My evolving purpose is thwarted,
ironically here, the battle reported.
*in the future, anywhere
Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia
All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.