"Autobiographies of great nations are written in three manuscripts – a book of deeds, a book of words, and a book of art. Of the three, I would choose the latter as truest testimony." - Sir Kenneth Smith, Great Civilisations

"I must write each day without fail, not so much for the success of the work, as in order not to get out of my routine." - Leo Tolstoy

I have never believed that one should wait until one is inspired because I think the pleasures of not writing are so great that if you ever start indulging them you will never write again. - John Updike

"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it." - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Poetry is the shadow cast by our streetlight imaginations." - Lawrence Ferlinghetti


[Note - If any article requires updating or correction please notate this in the comment section. Thank you. - res]

Monday, August 11, 2025

R.E. Slater - Wonder



Wonder
by R.E. Slater

a state of awe or admiration
at something new or unexpected


I lay in the warming sunbeams
         on the wooden floor
    they warmed me.
             My mind, my soul
                 drift -
 
                      lifting in thought
            remembering
                       wandering
                 constructing
         rebuilding all I knew.
From the window above
    thin curtains blew -
             lifting
                   rippling
                          rising up
                    cascading down
              momentarily held
          in the gay breezes
     fluttering like my heart
                                    in free fall.

Taking in what I knew -
     wondering
            dreaming
          warming in the sunbeams
                   under the lazy summer
                            breezes
              listening to wafting sounds
         heard overhead
    falling into my inner sanctum
          into my head
                washing across my soul
                            absorbing
                                   capturing
                          abandonin
   time's fleeting moments
                     as only a child might
           feel, unknowing
                                  mortality
                             uncaring wants
                          or concerns
        feeling but passing
                 moments
                       wishing not to end
               then suddenly
                    awakening!
                          rising
                               running
                                    out to play!

Running
    in the laughing breezes
         running through
               the hanging wash lines
                     of wet clothes
                             my companion
                         little brother
                  trying to follow
             getting lost
                   in the wet wash
         with me
as mother watches
              hanging wet sheets
                    towels
                           shirts
                                 and socks.

Another day begins
      like, but unlike,
                     all other past days
              in solemn wonder
          in somber awe
    in the quiet comfort
                    of play
               and thought
          and majestic
                    wonderful
                            wonder.


R.E. Slater
July 23, 2025

@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved


Posted by at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)