Motes of the Unsaid

Like dry sand running through your fingers,
faint susurrations of thought,
ephemeral and non cohesive,
falling in motes of the unsaid,
creating a beach at my feet.

Where is the torrent, the raging waters of inspiration?
Where is the jumble and collide caused by the tides of imagination?

I am marooned in the calm empty of a shallow pool
with not even pebbles to reflect a distant sun.
I bask in the warmth of the sun,
yet search for the zephyr of air,
that will launch my ship again.

©  ceenoa

9 responses to “Motes of the Unsaid”

    1. Thanks you very much for your kind comment. Love the name of your blog 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Words can sure be elusive at times! Liked the second and third verses best.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. it started off different and then morphed into something else, and I hadn’t the heart to change it.


  2. Yep. I’ve been there for about two weeks now.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s really difficult. Sometimes things just don’t do what they should. Hope a storm (or a gentle breeze) comes to waft your ship along. 🙂


Happiness is kind words from a friend …..

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