I wrote this poem in the throws of my last depression, and see in it bits of hope. I don’t really know what it means but it was the first writing I had done in 5 or so years. I don’t remember what I was thinking when I wrote it. It doesn’t have a name:
Were I a poem a sonnet should suit,
As I seek my companion to complete the set,
I plant my seed deep in the root,
Then nourish with sun as well as the wet.
Time will pass so sprouts can grow,
Into stems, into branches, into flowers that bloom,
Seasons will change so settle will snow,
Now safely preparing in Spring’s womb.
Surrounded with union as with roots as rhyme,
Our couplets draw nearer to meet in extension,
That period in anticipation well worth the time,
Or possibly more with the hope of ascension:
Just knowing that experience shapes our key,
Letting join together eternal simplicity.
Anyway, take from it what you will. I like it and I kind of get something different from it every time I read it.
Power on, loves.