The Hours
It is a quiet day so far
The only noise I hear is mine
Short steps here and there
The creaking microwave
(yes, it creaks when working
sometimes me, too)
Soft murmurs from the television
The illusion that we’re
Interacting
It shouldn’t have to be
The start of a campaign
A march for quiet times for
For writing or whatever
I’m grown: I should have it
When I need it
Raise some noise
When I want to
Otherwise, the timing of a cenobite
Who wishes only to be left alone
In prayer
A world of prayer
In which the supplicant, petitioner
Enjoys a pure way filled with silent atoms
Paving the way
For all the calls, complaints,
Requests to God
Sometimes too much, I think
The hermit should get out more
If at all
There is a world
The one prayed for
We should know it better
Before closing off
To help it
A fortress of solitude?
Is that why the heroes need one?
Shut oneself off
To better understand
The causes that we fight for
Extract ingredients from the bowl
Before they’re mixed again
Before we fly back to Metropolis
To take it all on
Again
C L Couch
Photo by Keenan Constance on Unsplash
clcouch123 
Recent Comments