Wandering

poem by: John Prophet
Written on Oct 26, 2018

Flowing 
through space
and
time.
Wandering 
dimensionally 
through 
ethereal 
realms 
and back.
Sliver of
reality we
live,
oblivious 
of all that
exists.
Writhing in
the bog,
clawing to
survive.
Looking up
looking out,
like babes
in the
crib.
Wandering,
wondering.
Mysteries 
wrapped in
mysteries,
never to
be known.
Undaunted,
pressing on.
Pressing on
to a future 
unknowable.
To places
beyond 
belief.

 

Tags: Deep,

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Frank Hornby . commented on Oct 26, 2018 at 4:21pm
...and we don't need a ticket...the ride is free!....

 

 

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