I know you hear it calling.
I hear it too,
the howling of primitive winds
and beasts long extinct.
Go on wanderer,
push the pull
and find your feet,
tell me of your travels
when you come back home.
© Nicole Lyons 2017
Go on Wanderer
I know you hear it calling.
I hear it too,
the howling of primitive winds
and beasts long extinct.
Go on wanderer,
push the pull
and find your feet,
tell me of your travels
when you come back home.
© Nicole Lyons 2017
the maiden, mother and caffeinated crone
Poetry and prose by Basilike Pappa
collective of indie-published writers & readers who want to discover them
I'll write as long as my lines live
I can imagine saying this as I open the door to let the cat out, or to the Dream Time mind.
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What a lovely thought, thank you.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Nicole addresses the wandering spirit.
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Thank you my friend
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Fantastic. Enjoy the waning moon
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Such authority and power in just a few lines… I’m in awe of you
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Thank you, but I am in awe of you, so there.
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In case I haven’t told you lately, you are brilliant!
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In case I haven’t told you lately, no, you are!
Thank you my friend.
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