The finished poem from the random voice-note recorded on the walk the other day.
“An unhurried sense of time is in itself a form of wealth.”
― Bonnie Friedman Original source
p.s. I'll be back to read some of your poetry in a bit. Some mist is coming in and I don't want to miss Today. But I know some of you know me by now and I don't need to tell you this anymore. See you in a bit 💜
How do I make them remember?
How do I make them remember me?
How do I ask them to help me remember?
How do we remember how to see?
On a clear day I see
the lying eyes
behind the frozen smiles
On a clear day
I see
my country sinking
On a clear day
I stop
and talk to strangers
On a clear day
I see
my thinking
On a clear day
I see
my Shadow
walking beside me
like the friend it’s always been
On a clear day
the mountains look inviting
On a clear day
I’m already on the peak
On a clear day
my silence is decided
On a clear day
I find it easier to speak
On a clear day
I take my time to keep on moving
On a clear day
I fall down on my knees
On a clear day
it doesn't really matter
On a clear day
I have everything I need
On a clear day
the music sounds familiar
On a clear day
it’s easier to Be
Hardened Dreamer
Mother
Peaceful Warrior
Determined Dancer
and Stargazer
still...
Beyond fear is freedom
And there is nothing to be afraid of.
To Life, with Love... and always for Truth!
Nicky Dee
