Finding the Something (Poem)

close up of beer bottles on wood
Photo by Bruno Scramgnon on

Deep back in the green, the forest scene, quite serene
They frolic and play, do what they may, never have to pay
Dancing in number, I do wonder, never any thunder, on this day

In and out of the trees, running through the breeze, always on the tease
Left and right, they don’t bite, up and down, all around, they can be found
Hide over there, seek over here, find them like a hound

Of what do I speak you may ask, answering is not a task
The thing of which I speak, the thing of which I seek, the thing I hope you peek
Could it be a fairy, could its name be Mary, I promise its not scary, nor is it bleak
Could it be a kitten, all cute and smitten, or maybe a mitten that you seek

None of that is right, what you seek is quite bright, what you seek is the light
The thing to be found, the thing all around, the thing not bound, it’s the mind you have found

In your mind is a place, you set the pace, this is not a race
In your mind find solace, your own palace, not callous
Hone your skills, work the mills, find the thrills, sing the trills
Write your heart, throw a dart, do your part

Give it to the world one page at a time, bring the rhyme
This is not a crime, your mind is quite fine, spin it to the nine

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