in the still of the write

the air is still
no whispers spell
nothing stirs
but the fallow dust
beneath my feet
there is naught but mute
a gate has drawn
no amount of fretful fancy will it breach
whatever speaks has determined it

in these days
a versifier indwelt and I its crier
and so redeemed myself in the doing
now it is as though I’m shunned from myself
an exile is at hand
for a wondering in the wilderness
will be my determination

if there has been transgression
it will be known to me in due time
it will not be those that think it so
that will determine it

if there has been purpose
there will be end
this will also be in time
I will not be the one that determines

It will be as it will
I wrestle no more
if endowed it will manifest
but I will not trespass
my author has determined it

 

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© November 09, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

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2 thoughts on “in the still of the write

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