Treasure Hunt (poem)

Most mornings, I take a walk in a forest nearby, and it reminds me that every day has its treasures to offer.

TREASURE HUNT

Each day I set out,

Like a curious scout,

In search of a land of surprises;

And the treasures I find,

In the earth and my mind,

Are like beauty in all its disguises.

There’s the scent of the rain

And a church window pane,

The kiss of my love and her smile;

There’s the dog’s wagging tail

And a card in the mail,

The shard of a bright coloured tile.

By the end of the day,

Spent at work or at play,

I add to the chest of my treasures:

The plume of a bird,

A song that I heard –

I’m rich with my horde of small pleasures.

The Writer (poem)

THE WRITER

By Wayne Visser

I write my waking incoherence

And when I sleep, I dream in words;

I write out lines as daily penance

And let them go, like captive birds.

The words are seeded in the darkness,

Plucked like stars from midnight skies;

I may not know their rhyme or reason,

Or if they’re foolish, foul or wise.

I write in ink on crushed papyrus,

I write in blood to spread the virus;

I write for love, I write for money,

I write in vinegar and honey.

The joy is in the puzzle making,

In finding pieces that might fit;

It’s not unlike the art of baking,

Or solving riddles bit by bit.

I write in pictograms and stone,

I write with feathers and with bone;

I write for fame, I write for history,

I write in code and silent mystery.

The pain is in the shards of meaning

Piercing into mental flesh;

It’s not unlike the knife of healing

Cleaning out a wound that’s fresh.

I write in tones that cast a spell,

I write in heaven and in hell;

I write alive, I write when dormant,

I write in tune and script discordant.

The words are borrowed, begged and stolen,

Yet these words are mine to give;

The belly of my words are swollen

And given birth, they start to live.

I write my muddled hero’s journey

And when I fall, words pick me up;

I write out sentences that turn me,

Questing, towards the gilded cup.

I write to breathe, I write to survive,

I write to believe, I write to strive;

I write to conceive, I write to thrive,

It’s writing that keeps me alert and alive.

Copyright 2011