As many of my friends, and readers, may know already – I appreciate poetry but cannot write much. I have always admired people’s ability to dabble so effortlessly the art of poetry. So it was with much surprise and delight when a small spectrum of inspiration made its way into my head yesterday…
Uttering your name fills me with an overwhelming sense of peace,
The thought of your existence, your purity, ends this raging fire.
These goosebumps are a mere physical reaction,
For true reaction lies with the instant soaring of emotion.
Looking down from a point so high up,
The infinite calm and serenity is yet unequalled.
How petty these supposed worries seem to be,
When clearly perfection starts from within.
I don’t feel like a poet yet, but I cling tightly onto my title of writer 🙂