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Longing For Belongings...


The grey skies, decorated with lightening,
The puddles disturbed, by the people walking,
The shutters kissed, by the rain that's pouring,
No not at all, this life is never boring.

Along with this, my mind began her sparkling,
In the midst of the rain, I did not feel her pausing,
In the flood of her imagination, she was swimming,
I could not save her, I didn't know she was drowning.

Back to the land, I saw her crawling,
Filling some forms, I know she's withdrawing,
The imagination, from her head, that's overflowing,
With words and rhymes, she began her drawing.

Seated quietly, she continued exploring,
Through the disturbing winds, that are blowing,
Her hands could not stop, shivering,
But she desperately continued, her drawing.

She turned back to me, she's smiling,
Oh yes, that's me, in my own mind wondering,
She handed me this rhyme, that I'm sharing,
And she jumped into the flood of life, longing,
Not for much, but only for her belongings.

-Debra R. N. Ludwick-
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