in reluctance to the search from within
the vase jar still hangs by the window sill
there are voices in my head no whispering
a very faint sound of selfish fervor

inside we hide behind four walls
alone again in the vanquished torment
a house by an ocean sound with quaint colors

the vested remnants of a porch swing hung outside in patio
traffic outside the hallway with squeals of children laughing
memories of salt in the air from the brisk breeze
a tree would often loom basking in the sway

the inner pendulum of silence etched inside
to gaze on the outside with inner tranquility
to bask in the vast breeze would quench my thirst
I'll record these moments on pen with paper

a very faint cry of sadness
one may evoke fear from its madness

angelic fervor with a residue of sweet honey
the fervent cry of birds in sequence
a diseased tree just making it past Autumn
life is made up with moments alone in time

a call to tranquility,
to light the inner spark of what we need to know
Calling from the realm of passion released to intertwine

A challenge to be free is a question of time

This poem is about: 
My community


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