Wandering Lengths Of Rhythm Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Galloping through measures of altitude, climbing
mountains with the accuracy of a delicate
instrument.

Holding onto the foot and handholds of acquiescent
solitude, looking down canyons and ravines at the
beauty being kept and hidden secretly within
depths of picturesque scenery.

Never being taken out to look at, just keeping it
where only I can see and express it into many
volumes of poetry.

Never minding the wind-torn gusts always tearing,
ripping the pictures unduly from their places on
walls where they've been hung for centuries, never
staking their claims on earth, even though they
have every right to do so.

Wandering lengths of outlasting rhythms, finding so
many interesting manifestations situated in the
middle of my soul's inner deserts.

Unholily recognizing priceless worth of what I'm
writing in such wonder and awe without giving in one
iota.

Incessantly continuing without stopping or pausing
for even a moment in time.

Realizing that existence is over in just moments of
time as they end suddenly in a song of rhythm.