What of them, it is impermanence; What was once will be recycled and sifted through, what of us, will we be made impermanent?
Why must we toil?
angry for the intrusion of the water.
can it not all stop?
Can the footprint be made to stay?
Why is it that Nothing gold can Stay?
Why is it that we only see destruction, where did beauty go?
“Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
Footprints, that, perhaps another,
Sailing o´er life´s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.”
Alas, to many streams exist, I want that narrow pass to enter the gates, I want to circle upward on that ladder that Jacob saw in his vision, I want to leave a footprint, is that to prideful?
Alas the wind came and blew away any footing I had made, in it´s whisper came a soft voice:
“You´ve an eternity to leave a footprint young child, smile I am with you.”
And it blew and I took a breath.
The quiet solitude is deafening.
It rings peace of deep sleep.
It wants control where there is none.
Total oblivion is always pushing.
Hope for the bells of youth to rejuvenate the soul.
In the dark our minds abide as memories arise.
Give light to the living.
Free humanity with emptiness.
Get of the wheel and follow the straight course.
Remember September falls with grace.
May rings in the new from a desolate place.
Summer air is free from time.
As winter covers this mountain of haste.
Tears are many.
The world does not conspire it moves as such.
Ones needs grow as the cycle heads and the pinnacle hides.
As the days pass the depths grasp and life changes.
It’s time to take the greater voyage.
The one where the end is the beginning.
Stars recede yet they also shine.
Let it shine.
Words want life, yet no one knows.
Will children dance, die, cry?
Will adults die, cry, dance?
Free no more as I wash the door.
Hide my path so I can sink.
Spinning with colors upon a broken wheel.
I look as I can not stop.
When the moment ends I panic,
and do not jump.
Then I cower in my loneliness,
for pride has killed me.
Once sweet fruits.
The agony of betrayal.
Once so soft against my yolk.
They left for the pleasure of the weave.
Didn’t they know what I knew.
The hardness of my soul,
may someday be ground anew.