Monday, July 29, 2019

The Hermit of Thought


He had no need to isolate himself on a mountain top
Remove himself to a remote and desolate place
It was futile when they would only travel with him
The skulking memories and thoughts in his mind
Distance was no barrier to the worst of them
Walls too permeable with no sense of security
Pills left him hollow inside with no soul
Feeling nothing at all, not even the good
He sensed a partition growing within
A reaction to adapt to the perpetual threat
Since he could not keep the world out
It would keep his private world safe within
A world where there was comfort in unreason
Where feelings were truth, if only for the day
Where happiness was the highest good
Even if it was transient as the morning dew.
-Wayne Olson

BIO: I started writing in my late teens.  I took to writing short stories at first, then poetry later and love the ability to say much with few words.  I have always been on the introverted side, very comfortable in my own space, so writing suited my need for expression. I have had a very rich spiritual life since childhood which is very much part of my nature, so much of what I have gleaned from those experiences finds its way into my writings.  Poems are my ship’s “logbook” on this voyage thru life.

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