When Asked…, a first draft poem by Stephen Fuller

When asked what it is that my life meant to be
It was here that I stopped and saw what is to become
Becoming
So I stood still as I could and listened
I heard birds chirping,
Junco and chickadees, nuthatches and wren
Barely a sound of man to pollute my pause.
Like a stream that longs to gather at rocks
I gathered my soul
And so became becoming
Yes, perhaps these are words that twist upon themselves
Yet so do all words when left alone too long
I will resume now my walk,
I will resume now my becoming,
Now
That I know that becoming means
Everything
Like this birch tree right here,
as white as snow,
yet reaching ever upward into absolute
As the snow that mimics it
Gives us beauty for only moments,
But so precious they are
we preserve them in words,
Just as this tree preserves them in its bark.
I pause again
I go again
The crunch of snow
An ally I knew once
Now again, returned
To my side to point out
These words I had missed
On my way home
17 Responses to “When Asked…, a first draft poem by Stephen Fuller”
I love the thoughts in this.
And the imagery…another moving piece Steve!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Vanessa!!! ššš
LikeLiked by 1 person
šø
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so Much dear friend
LikeLiked by 1 person
[…] https://fullbeardlit.org/2020/01/26/when-asked-a-first-draft-poem-by-stephen-fuller/ […]
LikeLiked by 1 person
A poem of lovely ponder–and such a gorgeous blog you have! Best blessings to you š
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, thank you so very much for both of this comments!
LikeLike
You are sincerely welcome š
LikeLiked by 1 person
ššš
LikeLiked by 1 person
Read it twice, and breathed more slowly after it. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are very welcome and thank you for reading!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Delightful words and scene
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much ššš
LikeLike
You’re welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
š¤
LikeLike
[…] Stephen Fuller […]
LikeLiked by 1 person