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The Mission: poetry learned


By jamesaguiar - Posted on 22 January 2010

how to wait, how to see
how i might tell the final story
waiting, biding til i'm hoary
trudging along past the season,
sense and thought lost on reason
and truth itself ceases to be.
should such a discipline be taught
when its learning changes me
the essence of which might others be?
so, is it for naught,
as my small window swings slowly shut?
i could, i know, go on and on,
with metaphors and similes drawn,
but the point is surely lost
the price of me is the cost

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