It's been a long time since I've really written any poetry - something I passed hour after hour doing back in high school. I've written a couple since my trip began, so I may as well share. The first one was written in Seattle on January 10th, the second I wrote yesterday afternoon.
What could I write that is beautiful?
To the tired and dirty
Human kindness breathes an elegant new life,
unbound - that is beauty.
The joyful street serenade to the pigeons and travelers,
Melodies reaching out beyond crooked yellow teeth.
We are a thankful and lost generation,
As unsure and innocent and beautiful as the last and the next.
"I'm a lover", again and again singing thanklessly,
"I'm a lover"
And so he is.
Though she waits in the garden,
Her flowers do not grow;
Her spiders stalk the morning -
With the locusts close in toe.
The rain has finished falling
When the sun comes out to play
And the wind calls out a warning
That it's just another day.
Still she sits content to listen
To the insects sing their song
And although no blooms have risen,
Their fragrance isn't gone.