Posted in introspection, poetry, writing

One Morning

One Morning  I found the real poem in the silence, the moment between songs that sits in the lungs like held breath.  I could write about the shape of the clouds, the gray cascading over the awakened sun as I drove to work that morning.  Could write about the internal reaction to the scene, the music speaking to me, me singing,  the release at the final beat.  But I don’t need to write it;  analyze the living of it with overwrought introspection, forcing words to rehash  something no one else witnessed.  Instead, I move on.    —Leanne Rebecca


Poetry and music.

9 thoughts on “One Morning

    1. This means more than you know. Poetry is the most intense passion I have ever found and I often describe it as an extension of my identity. I’d like to hope that passion comes across in my daily life. It’s a blessing and a curse to carry that kind of introspection and emotion at all times.

      1. It comes through 🙂 glad to see you live your life with passion. Continue to write, I found it to be the only thing that truly touches my soul.

    1. Sometimes I feel that I obsess too much over those moments, because usually, when I fall into a place of introspection I have difficulty staying in the good of the moment and instead overthink everything.

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