Many tiny surfaces, making it hard to stay aware.
Life after life crashed here, leaving all but identical debris,
shards, except dull, from being walked on so long;
Or maybe that is just what my one eye chooses to see;
while a simple tune begets its complicated song.
Where is this line you think to get your new start at?
How far is it from one that you first scraped in the grime?
Will it depict a far ahead point not yet charted,
or only a reminder that you likely will not have time?
If all that can be left behind already seems to by now has been,
what is still to come, do you think you know?
What if it is colder, or even duller than what you are living?
You get the where, the when, but seldomly the how,
by then the why, way too late, begins to show.
I drag out the motherless child with his excuse for everything,
coldness penetrates inside the spirit wall to foster malingering.
When the unkindness of merely being alive abates,
each much decide how far to travel, what is useful to bring.
Where, in amongst all the noise, is a melody that needs singing?
Am I writing only because I am so distressed?
Behind some need still not confessed?
Do I embellish what pain I do endure?
Are none of you certain, is no one here sure?
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Author:
Dan Williams (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2024 00:50
- Comment from author about the poem: Again with the reflection. This kind of thing runs almost endlessly through waking and sleep, writing helps muffle it.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments3
This poem is a quiet small pond that is deceptively deep. Several metaphorical clues are left along the way as guide posts and as it unravels. Reincarnated, resurected call it what you may how does one differ from the other life and what is the purpose. Each belief has its own answer (one eye) no one is certain no on is sure. I'm not sure my interpretation applies. Never the less very nicely done
Hell, I'm not so sure my interpretation applies. All is just to lead in to the last line. I think. Thanks for your insight.
Walking round in circles my dear mum used to call it, beautiful reflection, I hope you find the start line and the finish line one day soon my friend. 🌹
I stay confused over where exactly to start these things, also where to end, but thanks.
It will start on the day you step on that line of joy and relief and happiness and light knowing if you have found it, you can definitely finish, 🌹 It's finding that line, so very invisible sometimes. ❤️
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