I search for gold
When sitting in a cave of treasure.
I dream of resting
When I am asleep.
I seek beauty
Despite the vibrance of my possessions.
I want more,
When I have no room.
Clarity in Muddied Waters
A Messianic Journey Through Pen and Peace. Writing from the Stillness Within.
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She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam’d upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From Maytime and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
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Tangled branches bear no fruit
For growth is choked into obedience.
Winter gives way to warmth,
But if the frost is too harsh will anything bloom?
Vibrance contained ceases to give light,
It withers and fails, a slave to oppression.
Favour drained becomes nothing more than an action,
Held too tight,
Life turns to rubble.
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Ultraviolence
Lying in the open,
Travelling alongside us
Ripples impact,
Avoiding spotlight
Vivid in their secrecy
Integrated into society
Openly spoken of yet
Leaning on our pillars
Existing through us ,
Newly budded,
Century after century
Ebbing away at our boundaries.
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The leaves writhed in the morning gale,
Twisting in anguish,
Avoiding change.
Autumn tried to mellow their green hues,
Tried to fill them with the fire of fall;
But the leaves clung desperately to Summer.
They retreated to what they knew-
And so they would,
Until they succumbed to their inevitable change.
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“Make your mark.”
Personally, I do not disagree with this statement and it’s values, and yet I cannot help but wonder…
To me, it seems as though when someone says this phrase it is implied that whatever mark you make will stay preserved for ages to come; that if it is of real significance many people after you will grow from it.
This can be true, but more often than not it isn’t.
Clouds make their mark on the world in different ways, rain for example.
But after the downpour what is left?
Sure, puddles and floods, damp stains on concrete; but within an amount of time, these things fade.
This explains my views on what happens when people leave their mark on the world.
Ideas stay and are reused, but after some time has passed they will fade like rain; they are forgotten.
This is not to say that the ideas or ‘marks’ that fade are invalid or unimportant, merely that they are not immortal.
These ‘mortal’ marks can still change views and impact people; but they may not last forever.
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Clarity in Muddied Waters 