Poet’s Bane

On a dark star-filled night
I step outside long after
the town retires and gaze
upward, dogged stillness
the analogesic to my soul.
But even in this zero chill
the spirit cannot escape

the mind which never
seems to quiet. Toward
sacred space my thoughts
cannot help but articulate
morphemes, and silence
becomes the most self-
defeating prompt ever.

About Greg Wright

I have worn many hats as a writer and editor over the years. These blog entries will be more akin to the newsletter columns I wrote for Normandy Christian Church and Puget Sound Christian College in the "old days" than my more recent journalistic work at Hollywood Jesus, Past the Popcorn, or SeaTac Blog. They will also be of a more overtly spiritual nature than most of my recent work.
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