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Open Poetry #40
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Of Tides and of Seasons
| Open Poetry #40 |
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Of Tides and of Seasons |
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WindWalker Senior Member
since 2001-10-12
Posts 1218 |
A wind blows and leaves scatter, a wind all too familiar; another wind comes and scents of delicate flowers fill the night air: and what do they all mean, these strange, strange winds but that the Earth is changing her seasons and scenery? Is it any different with those of us tied to her cycles? As the tides, our cycles can be brief, thunderous even or they can stretch monotonously through months and years but of change, that we can be sure -- of change we will taste. We build in valleys; hang castles on sides of rocky peaks; our brief sojourn walled in and roofed upon and floored under to keep the sand, rocks and mud from soiling our softened feet; to keep snow and rain, heat and insects from harming our skin. In our comfort, do we not often forget this inescapable fact: that a human life is very short, and not always so very sweet? Do we not forget to share the temporary blessing of one life experienced briefly in such flimsy tents we call our bodies? Late in the night, more often than not, I feel this call; not frightening, not pleasant; a definite wistfulness unformed. It is the call of the wild, the pull of the unknown, as if to say: your time here is almost done, and are you ready for the road? I'd like to say I do not feel a deep regret, a great sadness knowing I have to leave, knowing so much is left unseen; undone; I'd like to say I do not feel a great relief to know this much: There seems no way I can prevent my boarding this last bus. In my small way, in my meek wanderings, I learned this much: life does not consist of being well always, or being rich or right; nor does it consist of being pleasantly sated, and always satisfied. Life consists in traveling lightly, freely and finally letting go the string. There is one last strange wind to blow from the sea, silent as a desert and only I will taste that wind, and only I will know where it goes to. It will be the last change of seasons for this body I have called home. I cannot say I will be sad; I cannot say I will be glad. All I can say is: I accept. |
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| © Copyright 2007 Sharran WindWalker - All Rights Reserved | |||
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
profound WindWalker and this line holds me "Life consists in traveling lightly, freely and finally letting go the string." |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
"I cannot say I will be sad; I cannot say I will be glad." Yes, we cannot say because we do not know. Your summation of life is pretty much spot on! |
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secondhanddreampoet Member Ascendant
since 2006-11-07
Posts 6394a 'Universalist' ! |
simply EXCELLENT!..... [one of the very best 'write's that I have EVER read] much, MUCH applause! |
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