Vigour – a poem

A sense of vitality returning, the promised run through creationary impulses

Led by a nearly limp hand into forests where trees, taller than fabled giants,

Rise to high canopies of dark shadowy crevices… A shift in aims, refraction

And diffusion of intents pulsing to fill voids where before lay supine wisps

Of sorrow fed into obsessions bordering upon ostentatious boredom bred

Into life and living’s domain, once more flavoured by vigour, icon of vim.