Symphonies

beautiful-clouds

 
Such inadequate words
Yet we try
I used to talk in symphonies

Cacophonies of sound
Melodies of phrases
Meanings lost, misunderstood

Pretty sonnets
Quadratic fluff
Known only to me

Silence, always the teacher
Wisdom unspoken
So I watch

Arms spread on a sunny day
Clouds drift unbound
Nothing but this

And this is what is needed
Nothing but this
Without words

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Eyes Wide Shut

blind-truth

 
To awaken is the goal
Another in a list
To do’s ticked off
One by one we move
Towards an end, the end

“We,” we say, meaning me
The obstacle grows
“Forget you,”
“I am on a path”
“I am right, you are lost”

And the arrogance remains
No one wants truth
Only their own; personal
Yet one remains ignored
Not joy nor bliss
As we wish

Crushing Truth; as is
Not wrapped in a bow
Raw, primal, obliterating
No return ticket given
And no path back

Words are cheaper by the dozen
Truth has no need
Open eyes never forget
And will never ask
“Are we there yet?”

Stoic

Nature Prayer

45798283_10155692322096669_1679337001624535040_n_Fotor

Original Art: stephendallen

Harbinger of souls
Carry me beyond
This Earthly caste

Above the forlorn
To rise, to see
Clear and open

Beyond the rabble
See the whole
Unmired from detail

Dark wing carry
Into the sun
Where all are one

Stoic.

Pretty Things

humannature4

Courtesy: http://www.reykjavikboulevard.com

We see the pretty places
With sun and sand
Upon a beach hand in hand

Gloss over ugly things
Averted gaze we look
Away from what we took

Security just an illusion
Seeing what we choose
Never seeing what we lose