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

Through The Years

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In time all things fall
Insanity softens to understanding
It was not that, ever
Simply a Truth, beyond its time

Embraced, reconciled
Never apart, but finally accepted
Maybe known before its time
I was, am, that I always was

Now to feel more, and think less
Silence is no longer boredom
It never was, yet was unheeded
I am finally enjoying the play
And I applaud

Stoic.

 

I AM

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Across worlds, a blink
Child to man, a breath
A product of what I think

And there is tenderness
Sometimes quite enough
Often falling from the caress

Never leaving, nor arriving
I am here in this moment
I am here, always, loving

I AM

Stoic