I cast the net
To the deep
With but my words as bait
And a hope that I might feed my readership.
I haul in the net.
And there, a wriggling Like,
A silver excitement with a life of its own.
And next a bigger catch, a
Follower, meaty and perhaps adoring.
I am a WordPress fisherman. And I
Must write and cast the net again.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Each time I Press
I take a step
And reach out
Far in to the mists
Of the unknown.
For Me it feels
As though the cutting edge
Of art arrives
And happens now
As I reach
In to the mists of mind
And bring back
All that I find there.
And then I Press again,
And wait.
And just like the mind
Beautiful things emerge,
Personalities materialise,
Worlds unfold,
And I realise
The myriad forms
The myriad souls
The myriad stars,
A billion hidden constellations
Out there,
Awaiting discovery.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
distilledvoice 