The world's so strange
That I should be allowed
To somehow interact with others
In a supernatural way
Spirit to spirit
How exciting!, how mundane

A gift I ignore every day
With a job to do
Papers to write
Things to achieve
Always more to do!
So busy getting nowhere

The world's so strange
I am a part of it
Moving and being moved
Like tiny cogs in some big wheel
I have no perception of, no conception of
Turning, turning, turning

A gift I ignore every day, time
Breath and life and all that grows
Living, moving, having being!
Such an amazing impossibility
Walking like the dead all around me
Moving woodenly, seeing all blind

The world's so strange...

12/10/2009

Author's Note: A poem that just came to me...

Posted on 12/11/2009
Copyright © 2025 Oliver Drewman