Conjectures Of A Lifetime

Gentle whispered pleadings floating my way, grasping frail thoughts and nurturing their seeds to grow soon enough into poetry books. Alive with the conjecturing of a lifetime, rearranging all expressions of words or thoughts into rhyming schemes, tantamount to certain ideas of living. Anciently aware of the creative process, living and growing within, standing on freedom's edge, waiting to greet final moments of my small gentle life, slowly being pressed from me by whispered pleas of a tiring aged soul. Time to go, time to find a place in the great blue beyond of inner poetry and joy. At last separated from the wanton desires of a past, present, and future, rowing towards what I have always sought after. Peace of soul beyond this world, awaiting mine to be complete.