Contemplation

Drifting through inner space,

My mind will never win a race.

Can you feel the wind blow

Inside and out, it pushes me

To my destination. The spoon stirs

The tea in the cup.

Sweetened with sugar, I drink right up.

I’m falling asleep, but it’s only 9 a. m.

Look at all the trees beginning to bloom.

Advertisements

Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s