Quivering ground, dancing at my feet

Quivering ground, dancing at my feet

jiggles to and fro with unrest

remaining unsettled, never finding its calm

a great mirror of my self

oh, that quaking of life penetrating

striking deep to a forgotten center

sharp! hard! a great “prick” I feel

a stab at the marrow that breathes

unrelenting, it gives no rest

I’m so exhausted . . . so tired . . .

give me rest!

(This non-rhyming descriptive reflections was intended to describe, in a descriptive way, how I felt the day I wrote it.  It refers to how I feel a doubt about things which causes an uneasiness in me, a ‘great quaking’.)

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