Daniel Thomason

Rookie (8/6/1993 / San Antonio, TX)

Those Motherly Mornings - Poem by Daniel Thomason

I drift along a certain valley of sin,
Internally opposing the simple desires I long for,
Yet, I feel at peace,
For I am free of a mind - mindless...

The birds birth their so-called young ones,
That hold their heads to the sky in a graceful, yet grotesque manner,
They're hungry for their mother's love,
For they are free of time - timeless...

Dandelions in a distant meadow whisk about a windy day,
Breathing in a rich sachet of this-and-that, beauty and fault,
They are drowning in the reigning grass of a foot yonder,
For they are free of all innocence - innocence...

A mother wields her child to her cherishing bosom,
Giving it life, comfort, lachrimosity, all for the sake of existence,
It reached its petite hand to its mother in hopes of another escape of comfort,
They grasp on to one another's palms,
The child can only drink, slowly, but peacefully,
Smiling, the mother, smiling...

I drift along a certain valley of sin,
Internally opposing the simple desires I long for,
Yet, I feel at peace,
For I am free of an evil mind - an evil, evil mind.
Gazing at the clouds in the sky,
Realizing life is a blessing,
Grasping to the palm of a mother,
While in the comfort of her love... smiling.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 11, 2011


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