Finding a prompt, thoughts swirl inside his mind,
He is a hunter poised on edge with spear,
Peering within the darkness, seeking rhymes,
Looking for emotions, laughter and tears.
Flitting from muse to muse, searching for truth,
Sometimes leaping high, sometimes stumbling,
Word and phrase witness the maturing youth,
He ventures forth with pen in hand, running.
Searching here and there, far and wide he goes,
Across oceans vast to exotic lands,
Taking him to places he doesn’t know,
His subconscious taking him by the hand.
Along the flow of eddies, warp and weft,
His mind’s eye roams, for it is seeking yet.
35 year old sciolist living in London. I like swing dancing, Twitter word games, writing, using Stumbleupon.com, reading, and watching movies. I write stuff on my blog occasionally.
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