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The Origin of the Impulse



I thought it was the sun
that wanted me to do it.
I thought it was the sky,
the rain, I thought it was
one of the trees.

What does it mean that I
wanted to do it, that it was me?

The moon didn't discourage me,
the sea didn't stop me,
the stones could have put an end to it
but let me try.

I searched the world for the origin
of the impulse, the desire.

Maybe it was the fire?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.