Poetry: the mind is always wanting more

the mind is always wanting more

A square beam of sun lit my mat.
I sat with the sun beam.

Nations rose and fell,
people died around me,
giant sea creatures attacked my harbor.
Monks walked calmly, voices rose and fell.

Still, I sat with the sun beam.

A torrent of tears swept the landscape.
A chorus of birds fell silent.
A rumble threatened,
all hell broke loose
within me.

I sat.

I wept, I laughed.
I was so excited.
I smiled, I was bored.
I was in love. I was all alone.
Children were conceived, birthed, passed away.
The landscape before me fell away, transformed.

Decades passed by.
the square beam of light made an arc
one time, two times,
five times.
And when I emerged,
renewed,
I held the broken pieces of
myself.

© Beck Forsland