Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

from whence does this spring come
i sit here alone
curious of all that lives without me
i am only a speck within this
dreaming my own
how simple am i
can i begin to question
the infinite that yawns before me
my thoughts deemed insignificant
am i just chafe to the mill
a minor annoyance dead before acknowledged
my heart screams love
but i walk another path
uncomfortable with myself
how may i reconcile this dichotomy

Existential in theme and well captured here.

a timeless conundrum we all have likely pondered that begs the question why bother.......love the title....

i don't know
but you ask it well sonofthesun

But like a crocus loving roses had
I come too early; like pink blossoms of
the cherries loving autumns colored mad,
I opened eyes for daybreak while above
me was the emptiest new moon. And so
I disciplined myself to love what is—
not what I thought would be, but what I know—
and this is how I’ve broached compassion— this
is how I’ve hoped for empathy— because
I know the modesty of being me:
that I’m for you, for love, what is. But does
it pain me, your love’s discipline to be?
I’m grateful for the loveliness you bring
to pick bouquets of crocus in the spring.

thank you for your responses. smiles. and Judih...the not knowing i guess is why i write...and Joel i really enjoyed your poem. especially the last 2 lines

I enjoyed your interpretation of a personal battle that I'm able to relate.

smiles. to relate and accept others is the basis of all future. acknowledge and work for common ground, for we all have our own dream to live

These dreams are all gone,
like lines of massacred Roman
soldiers at Cannae.