Modicum, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Jaunted to the river’s edge this morning.
Destination was a place for yearning.
All problems were deterred from entering.
Be at peace without any conjuring.
Birds and water, music they do provide,
To clear my mind of any confusion.
Cloistered here alone my thoughts need not hide,
Offer contrition, seek absolution.
Take deep breaths and fill each lung with the air,
Clear so clean nostrils feel the peppermint.
Cast my eyes everywhere no spot to spare.
What I see and understand but a hint.
I need for greater power to unfold,
The mysteries so that I may behold.