Tuesday, April 19, 2016
I'm trying to get back in the flow of doing some creative writing. Here's my attempt for today.
Freely flowing and uninspired. Heart is eager, head is tired.
Down the spurious mountain, ride, while plains of desert bake inside.
A glow, a flow, a want to know, of ages future, long ago.
The path is wide, the road is coarse, the mountain high, the yelling hoarse.
A bridge, a sky, a feeling strong. The journey short, the path is long.
Reaching, getting, holding, petting. Son is rising, sun is setting.
And everywhere we look there are flowers.
And everywhere we look there are towers.
And everything we look at is grey because we expect colors.