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Poetry by Peter D. Orr
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The Wanderer Lead me along the paths of silence. Let me hear with my eyes What my ears cannot see. Lift me up though the valley's mist. Fill my senses with what could be... Not grounded by feet. Not stranded without wings. Pull me up to the cloud lines To view glorious things. Guuide me on roads of impulse. Let me feel with my hands The texture of scents. Lead me on to the confluence Where the moment invents... Other worlds Other themes Other hopes Other dreams. We all feed upon the knowledge Of what is... And what seems. |