Tag Archives: water

Learning in the Dark

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He must reach up to what he can’t below.
A solemn song the twilight will now sing.
Into dark depths, winding paths to follow.
What good there can the nighttime to him bring?
An age of waiting on the ocean floor,
Patience for questions that delay answers.
Inhabited by his greatest fears; more
Than a passing phobia or cancer.
One wonders if there’s breath under water,
He has been drifting down there for so long.
His arms, can he bring himself to bother?
Perhaps. He’ll soon find that his arms are strong.
In swimming towards the surface he will find,
Darkness and light, both, are repaid in kind.

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Renewal

Across the gap a tempting song.
A pond, a light, a stone.
On the far bank, far beyond,
A vessel long grown cold.
Daylight does nothing to warm.
How can there be a song without a soul?
There is no life within the vacancy.
The void stares back and somehow sings.
Such beautiful things
Set my mind at ease.
I am at waters edge,
and take a step.
Turning to stone, I sink and pledge,
To rise again after my ego-death.

To Argue With the Vessel

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A fragile crutch of flesh and bone,
Supports another wounded soul.
Water argues with the vessel
In which it is contained,
Progress made is infinitesimal,
Naught but vanity is gained.
A smile on pained lips and three
Unused wishes at days end may see,
This day again becoming night,
This tired form and I,
Simply wait for morning and new sight.
Where life and death combine.

Ocean and Shore

Water in vain tries to take hold of sand.
The ocean foolishly tries to claim the land.
“Come back to me.” he says to her,
The ocean to the shore.
“A little while longer.”
She answers in reply.
“When our mother in her great blanket,
Warms above: the skies,
Then we shall be much closer,
Our love. You and I.”.

They Expire

A reflection,
A form on the water
They no longer know.
It is capable of anything.
They say the flotsam is in the way,
The reflection is distorted,
By a shimmer on the surface.
On the shore they’ll find no purpose,
One must jump in.
Waiting for the image to become still and clear,
They expire.
Never realizing the image was a reflection of who they were before.

Beside Roses

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A call from wind and windings within
And tangled bellows show,
What was prized above all else
The mirrored echos towed.
All through the mire of the night
And dawn awaiting there,
No stops for me, my love, mustn’t tarry
Beside the roses in still cold air.
The morning sun may catch my back and bathe me in its light,
My face on and forward, forgetting previous nights.
Several days have found me searching,
Wandering through the fog and waters.
Every path is just: ‘one more turn’
Every turn, a dead end I’ve followed.
Until the morning I awake to the bitter taste of real.
You’re gone.
And the ocean of oblivion I long to pull you from,
In vain to bargain with echos your memory fading becomes.
I will wake one day no longer, and before that day comes,
It will be as I remember.
Beside the roses in the sun.

The Conqueror And Then some

I am the
Conqueror And Then some!
They’ll feel my wrath! All lands!
Subjects? Peasants? Servants!
They are but to serve me so!
My water smells too much like water! Change it!
My food dish is a kernel low! Bring more!
Bring to me the silly grass!
What? How dare you tell me no!
Your villages will burn!
You’ll each take my claw as punishment in turn!
But not until I’ve had my nap.
I am the
Conqueror And Then some!
And now I’ll conquer your lap.