"It's a fool's errand."
But a fool's errand
was never so sincere.
Climb that gargantuan mountain
with naught but the clothes
on your back.
Cross those vast plains
without a pause.
Swim along the turbulent river,
for it may lead
to the Spring of Eden.
By considering your steps boundless,
discover where a flourishing mind can lead
when guided by wandering feet
and unnamed limits.
Showing posts with label Optimism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Optimism. Show all posts
07 April, 2019
17 June, 2018
#0138 - Reinvigorating a Dimming Memory
It's been too long since I've written here,
or, for that matter, anywhere.
Here's a toast to the forgetfulness inherent to my humanity:
that which leads me to forget just how beautiful free-flowing words are.
And here's a "thank you" to music:
the enlightening beats and chords and walls of sound
that remind me why I picked up my six strings in the first place.
And an offed hat to those people that have bothered to say
"that's incredible" or even just "wow,"
for they remind me that my story and existence is not just for me,
but for everyone else as well.
As immersive as this life can be,
what makes it divine and beautiful is not that it's fun,
but that nothing you do is in a vaccuum.
Pursue your limitlessly expressive words,
and your infinitely explorative notes,
and your traveled, choreographed footsteps,
and your inimitably powerful eyes,
and your endlessly vibrant colors,
and your uniquely enlightening perspectives,
and your secretly immersive euphorias,
and your aesthetically magnificent designs,
and your perfectly precise constructs.
These are the multifarious and intimate hues
which color the simple base and outline of your live.
...Your mind, heart, body, and soul all seek exploration.
Do not feed them with routine or mundanity.
or, for that matter, anywhere.
Here's a toast to the forgetfulness inherent to my humanity:
that which leads me to forget just how beautiful free-flowing words are.
And here's a "thank you" to music:
the enlightening beats and chords and walls of sound
that remind me why I picked up my six strings in the first place.
And an offed hat to those people that have bothered to say
"that's incredible" or even just "wow,"
for they remind me that my story and existence is not just for me,
but for everyone else as well.
As immersive as this life can be,
what makes it divine and beautiful is not that it's fun,
but that nothing you do is in a vaccuum.
Pursue your limitlessly expressive words,
and your infinitely explorative notes,
and your traveled, choreographed footsteps,
and your inimitably powerful eyes,
and your endlessly vibrant colors,
and your uniquely enlightening perspectives,
and your secretly immersive euphorias,
and your aesthetically magnificent designs,
and your perfectly precise constructs.
These are the multifarious and intimate hues
which color the simple base and outline of your live.
...Your mind, heart, body, and soul all seek exploration.
Do not feed them with routine or mundanity.
07 January, 2018
#0135 - Return
Ah, the return!
For, though those neverending adventures,
meandering or maestro'ed,
bring into focus
a far-fetched reality
of unreal (or too real) proportions,
it is this place of seven-year-old covers
and unchanging hallways
that draws us back into historical routines
and coveted familiarities.
Here,
where the baggages lay in the closet,
and where the distant memories gather
from ganders and passings
to pleasurely pastimes
and eternal empathies.
For, though those neverending adventures,
meandering or maestro'ed,
bring into focus
a far-fetched reality
of unreal (or too real) proportions,
it is this place of seven-year-old covers
and unchanging hallways
that draws us back into historical routines
and coveted familiarities.
Here,
where the baggages lay in the closet,
and where the distant memories gather
from ganders and passings
to pleasurely pastimes
and eternal empathies.
23 July, 2017
#0125 - We will dance
through fires,
and frostbite;
‘neath sunlight
and starlight.
We will leave footsteps
—pellucid relics
of spirits lifted high
and worries hung to dry.
There’ll be paths where we’ve been:
Waltzes in the frost of snow,
Polka ‘pon the coals of fire,
Charleston in the sands of time.
The world will tell
a simple tale:
Entranced,
we danced.
And everyone will wonder
how, in darkness immured,
we laughed in the night
as we kept our sights centred
on the light of our gaze
and our endless embrace.
and frostbite;
‘neath sunlight
and starlight.
We will leave footsteps
—pellucid relics
of spirits lifted high
and worries hung to dry.
There’ll be paths where we’ve been:
Waltzes in the frost of snow,
Polka ‘pon the coals of fire,
Charleston in the sands of time.
The world will tell
a simple tale:
Entranced,
we danced.
And everyone will wonder
how, in darkness immured,
we laughed in the night
as we kept our sights centred
on the light of our gaze
and our endless embrace.
16 July, 2017
#0122 - The Non-Pains of Solitude
Solitude?
Sure.
But not sullen isolation.
Moments between moments,
when the mind is free to wander,
when I divine to take a gander
at this little pause in time,
here I think
of long-past memories
and evolving realities
and revolving thoughts:
breathing and living
and observed from each corner.
Should I be lonely?
separated from 7.5 billion people
by only a hair’s width in the span of the universe
and spew out appeals
to other lonely hearts reveling in lyric and verse?
Should I be wary?
gaze at ubiquitous verdure
as a diaphanous armour
against the world of unknown
to which I’ve been born?
Apoplectic?
at hate and injustice
when the reality is:
in the world there’s more peace
than there ever has been?
As the pessimistic news rolls through the television,
I remind myself of one important omission:
that for every act of violence or hate in the world,
a million happy occasions have also occurred.
As I hear of pain and sadness and loneliness
I remind myself that these disconsolate voices
arise only because they’re no longer obstructed
by labour, survival, and the novelty of action.
Lift your spirits my friends, and don’t be afraid
of a world seemingly filled with multifarious pain.
What you feel is not strange: many others have felt it.
You just have the freedom and time to think and evolve it
and the freedom and time to create change and effect it.
Sure.
But not sullen isolation.
Moments between moments,
when the mind is free to wander,
when I divine to take a gander
at this little pause in time,
here I think
of long-past memories
and evolving realities
and revolving thoughts:
breathing and living
and observed from each corner.
Should I be lonely?
separated from 7.5 billion people
by only a hair’s width in the span of the universe
and spew out appeals
to other lonely hearts reveling in lyric and verse?
Should I be wary?
gaze at ubiquitous verdure
as a diaphanous armour
against the world of unknown
to which I’ve been born?
Apoplectic?
at hate and injustice
when the reality is:
in the world there’s more peace
than there ever has been?
As the pessimistic news rolls through the television,
I remind myself of one important omission:
that for every act of violence or hate in the world,
a million happy occasions have also occurred.
As I hear of pain and sadness and loneliness
I remind myself that these disconsolate voices
arise only because they’re no longer obstructed
by labour, survival, and the novelty of action.
Lift your spirits my friends, and don’t be afraid
of a world seemingly filled with multifarious pain.
What you feel is not strange: many others have felt it.
You just have the freedom and time to think and evolve it
and the freedom and time to create change and effect it.
17 April, 2017
#0098 - Kickstart
{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 17}
Acres of mire and
pitchers of fire can't
shift my direction much
more than a breeze. || The
day's here to seize so I
make it my mission to
thrive in this grind and to
leave doubts behind.
Acres of mire and
pitchers of fire can't
shift my direction much
more than a breeze. || The
day's here to seize so I
make it my mission to
thrive in this grind and to
leave doubts behind.