Some times

Photo by WildOne at Pixabay

Sometimes – I hear a tap tap tapping though I’m looking at a photograph of a typewriter – which image makes no sound; I encounter story in silence where neither keys nor pen have yet shaped words; I feel what is over an horizon though it be beyond my sight; I sense poetry busy in the act of creating; I touch that which is not yet present. Sometimes all of life presents as mystery to be aspired to – and hoped for.

Some times.