When the wilderness beckons, and the mind, <br />Recalcitrant, struggles to obey: <br />This body hasn't anything substantial to say. <br />Only lines of verse can take them far, far away. <br /> <br />To look onto the river and rocks: leave worries behind. <br />Listen to gurgling streams: to see ships afloat <br />In the distant horizon. I have travelled <br />Often and wondered often walking <br />On streets and bridges as rivers murmur <br /> <br />Where does poetry begin? Why does the heart weep? <br />Are destiny's lines charted <br />And does change ever ensue? <br />How often, how often can one go wrong? <br /> <br />My companions to this solitude: <br />This mind, this body, this verse.<br /><br />Rani Turton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-mind-this-body-this-verse/
