Drawn

You do not know what draws you –
The Silence?
The Stillness?
The quest for a place certain, firm and faithful?

Perhaps it is desperation that sends you here,
or hope, or that madness and desire
that seems to haunt your spirit like the faint strains
of an almost familiar song.

Like so many things, you cannot say the why,
only the what, only the need
to fall onto your knees,
or into a lover’s arms
in search

form something more than yourself,
a joy that is transparent and ethereal,
unseen,
but stronger
than stone.

About this poem

Most of us make no pretense that we need something stronger than ourselves in our lives. Certainly I know I do.

Tom

PS – the picture was taken in Burano, not far from Venice, Italy