Sometimes While Seeking Poem by James Walter Orr

Sometimes I walk the earth, within a vacuum.
Sometimes I walk the earth, with joy replete.
I always walk the earth searching and seeking
For something that will make myself complete.

Sometimes I walk the seashore as a sculptor.
A stone, a shell or driftwood takes my eye.
Something just half perceived takes my attention,
That I must have, must know before I die.

Is it a certain curve, a certain profile?
A certain place whereon my hand must lie?
A certain place where I must let my lips brush?
A certain texture that my soul must try?

Oh, it may only be a certain feeling,
An aura that I must absorb to me.
Perhaps it’s only my imagination.
Perhaps it is a blonde from Tennessee.