Poet’s Bane

Posted on March 14, 2019 by Greg Wright

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. Unlike my scholarly and journalistic work from the "old days" at Hollywood Jesus, Past the Popcorn, or SeaTac Blog, the writing here is of a more overtly personal and spiritual nature. I hope it provokes you as much as it provokes me.
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