Impromptu Poem 19/07/2017

I wander in but one form

without a truth and into the trees.

My eyes rise.

the blinding sunlight is stifled

by a mess of branches that

only leaves regret at my own

entanglement

with life, with minds, with hearts…

 

I keep walking

clad in a mosaic of shades.

With each step I take,

It gives me a new form –

but only of darkness.

 

It’s been a long time since I wrote poetry. One of the things I regret: not sticking to poetry. It’s been very therapeutic for me.