purpose
the wind wisps past my ear,
the cool breeze dancing through my hair,
the silence fills the quiet,
the water leaves the side of the shore in small ebbing motions,
the crackle of a fire somewhere in the distance warming even the coldest of souls.
I wonder where my purpose is
do I find it in the breeze?
or in the ebbing of the water?
or in the warmth of the fire?
or maybe just in the silence.
👁 10💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.