what is this wanting;
my pleasures are simple:
a good book,
a mug of steaming tea,
a blank page and a good pen,
a quiet walk in the sun,
an ocean to soothe my soul,
family;
I have all these -
and so much more -
at my fingertips,
so what is this unrest;
it is as though
I want something more
from the world,
it has nothing more to give;
what is it I want from myself,
what hollow desire
keeps me searching
