Jeremy Kester's Blog

As though we were godsMeddling in mortal affairs

One might be inclined to think they would easily detect when they need a rest. I thought I knew that of myself, how I should be easily capable of telling when I was getting to a point where it was best for me to take a breath. To rest.

If I could stay warmAnd pass this winter by

Do you think we ever stop to noticeThe world and all that is around us

I am left winded. Exhausted. I sit there, wondering how I am going to proceed. The whole exercise, as small as it was, put me into the ground. I should be able to do more. How could I not write more than I did? 100 words? That’s nothing, yet it was too much to handle. Why?

Time moves along in a slow rhythmAs it sprints by me

Summer finally taking leaveMoving south with the geese

The air is cool enoughSitting still on the tarmacWaiting for the sun to warmOr a gate to become ours

There is fire hereSo often smolderingHidingWaiting

I fail to understand sometimesHow desire and ambition failHow easy it is for fear to forwardIts agenda for the way I live