Is it not indecision that gives rise to chance?
Is it not the leanings of one so far gone awry;
Their struggles and their victories
That enlighten the hopeful to happenstance?
If not the pitied, if not the small,
If not which is exalted but what remains at all -
Would this river yet tear apart this subtle green,
Still aching as it has for a purpose in belief?
If ever the meaning chose to emit
Some form of solidity or state of cadence,
If what ebbed; if what whittled down the stone
Was not condemnation, but a blessing -
What would we be, because of it?
If morality were to crumble like the canyon's veil,
Over time would it be the same as ever?
If we could learn to love ourselves
Would our weary spirits rest any better?
If what gives people sentience is floating around somewhere,
Above the clouds; among stars in the great beyond,
Some place where blue never ceases to give
Warmth that lonely children never forget -
If such a thing really did exist,
If we were to ever see it -
Would our own youth become amiss?
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Author:
Nicholas Browning (
Offline) - Published: November 5th, 2021 03:12
- Comment from author about the poem: Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm., Lorna
Offline)
Comments3
intriguing questions and theories, enjoyed the read, thanks for sharing
definitely words to ponder over
Thank you for your saying so L. B.
Feasible questions and inventively arranged to stay in readers' minds after the read - - thanks for sharing this first-rate writing my friend. It went into my list of favourites for me to read over again.
Thank you very much, Fay. I'm glad you enjoyed the read!
This is achingly beautiful. Thank you.
And thank you! I apologize for this very late reply. I'm not sure how I missed this D:
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