Thinking Man by Brian Pride
Copyright 2001 - Pride
 

Training for the daylight coming.
Thicker than the wind.
Sit alone and think of nothing.
Contemplate a grin.

Thin smile passes over face lifts,
Looking toward the fading sky.
Is but a whim. A passing fancy.
Dust specs in the eye.

Ghosts of mortals keep their distance dim in failing sight.
Coastal shorelines draw around them waves of sea foam lines.

Others come with graceful whispers.
Some with marks trill cried.
In even tempered steps on footpaths.
Steeped with moss and lime.

Fall silent down through age and wisdom.
Brittle barren and weathered dry.
Over grains of all that’s brown and withered.
Seed the waters rain over life.

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