Stillness

Introspective poetry

The only throne 
I'll ever own
Is carved from stillness

Photo by Kristen Verity Amm on Unsplash

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The only throne 
I'll ever own
Is carved from stillness

Perched thereon I survey my silent domain
A staccato procession of clockwork courtiers 
Presented in monochrome frames
Entreat me for a decision 
Demanding a fatal allocation
Of banal bilious blame

For the latest crop of dreams
Has failed to meet the promised yield
Too much sun? The wrong type of rain?
The doubts decry in appeal
That the fault lies – buried deep
Planted in fallow fields

And the agony of not knowing 
Suffocates all good reason
But none of it will matter
Come the turning of the season

For my treasury is rich
A hoard of technicolored currency
Has been gathered day by day
Bearer bonds of song and dance
Are wealth that cannot fade 
Exotic gifts of life well lived
And laughter… such bliss

All lie within my reach 
If only I can stand
To leave my throne