I adore Sunday mornings. I’m starting to think that they are almost as good as Fridays, and I LOVE Fridays. Play around with poetry today. Read it, write it, live it. Poetry allows us to read and to write secret messages to ourselves. It helps us to unravel the mysteries of life, as noticed particularly and uniquely by us. Poetry is powerful. My poem for today is below one of the many definitions of poetry, found in the dictionary.
“Felt Ear”
Why have we given contented a bad name?
A soft felt ear of a dog, lying and folding so delicately
in my hand, as I peer out into the sunlit stillness,
noticing no sudden movements nor longing to be anything
or anywhere but here. When we forget to be content,
we miss all of the beauty which we are building on,
and sometimes carelessly tearing down.
Every virtue has its shadow. Desire expands, as passion pulls
us outward but contentedness gives us the centering
to pull back in to what matters most. A soft felt ear . . .
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
That’s a really beautiful poem, Kelly.
Thank you, Gail. <3