The simplest mill is the grinding stone used everyday
In the poorest countries to grind their grain this way.
The mill in its many forms we’ve had for many a day
Giving rise to mill ponds housing a raft of ducks
Milling grain, white or brown to sacks, carted in trucks.
Wheels driven by water, wind mills and tide mills
To power the many machines, looms, pumps and drills
To pump water, to irrigate and to drain the land.
You can be sure we go through the mill hand in hand!
So, if you ever feel that you’ve been through that mill
Which drains your energy and makes you feel ill,
Take heart, breathe deep through the belly and pause,
Search within for the source finding the real cause.
Remember that which has gone through the mill
Comes out finer than when it entered the grill.
Whether we make it, skirt it, pass it or fail it
Is of no consequence, it’s the journey that makes it.
Not so much for you, even if it feels a rough ride,
But for the benefit of the witness hidden inside.
It’s the only one who matters, your alma mater
The one who caused you, urges you to love her.
Are you up for that to love your cause never seen
Never heard, never seen even on the silver screen.
It takes a search of consciousness to find your faith
Rising to that level of light in which to bathe.
Remember you are made of the right material,
The stuff that stars are made of, light ethereal!
© David Tenneson – 2017


About David

Devonian writer
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3 Responses to MILL

  1. This was no run of the Mill poem David.. 🙂 and lots of grains of wisdom held within 🙂


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