I woke up singing this morning
wandering also around, in my mind,
a mystical green place of sparkling sun and dew.
It is where we go when we die,
drawn toward light from the dark
gate to living things.
It is where we are when we rise
high, inspired by an inner voice,
the voice that says, go forth and create.
It is why I am dying to live,
letting go of worn visions,
returning to the beginning.
From love I perceive his hand
touch my face and do not think,
but feel conciousness, clear --
contented beyond contentment
from a simple caress. Why is he here for me?
Why am I here for him?
For this dying to live,
this touch on my face,
this singing in the morning.
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.