Friday, August 30, 2013

The Wings of Uncertainty

"Madness is the result not of uncertainty but of certainty."
~Frederich Nietzsche

Sometimes having some semblance of control of what happens in our lives is like a loosed canary from an open cage, we have it for a moment and once it escapes our hold, it could again light upon our finger or cross our path eventually, but we must face the fact that like a free bird we might never truly capture it within our grasp once more.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Directions Not Included

photo by Steven Kelly

"Men, like nails, lose their usefulness when they lose direction and begin to bend."
  ~Walter Savage Landor


Sometimes I am rough like an old highway that is in desperate need of repair
and I am stagnant like a puddle where there is no light to bring a glare.
At times I am tattered like a worn hem on a dress no one will sew
and I am meager like a garden where a careless gardener never goes.
At times I am lost like a sparrow that has never built it's nest
and I am lonely like a boring hostess that will never have a guest.
Sometimes I am empty like a pew where the minister shall not preach
and full of dust like antique furniture hidden beneath white sheets.
At times my focus is for naught like an unused telescope on a starlit night
and I am vacant like a building that it too damaged for someone to buy.
 In this life there are no road signs to truly guide the way ahead
and purpose can get lost if we drive like our foot is made of led.
So slow down and pay attention don't miss the turn you were meant to make
for no one else can do it for you, it's a maneuver that only you can make.

Friday, August 23, 2013

A Hunger That Fills Buckets

photo by Elena Kalis
The ocean of the body crashes against the ocean of the heart. Between them is a barrier they cannot cross. ~Rumi
Lost is the place my heart wanders
nowhere that has an uttered name
it's a choir that sings of loneliness
a hunger that fills buckets like rain
it's point of exact location
cannot be found
on any printed map
it's a grain of sand to an ocean
a skyscraper laying on its back
 it's penciled in directions
to a permanent destination
that does not yet exist
it's a doorbell to a deaf man
a voice that shall forever have no lips
the true logic of the
code and boundaries
is teardrops tied to a locked up gate
it's a room that has no walls
a fork that will never have a plate
a broken heart is a manic hunter
searching for candles inside the dark
 it's a cure that has no potion
a wound that will never leave a mark
for love is a mighty fortress
 that no human strength can truly lift
it's a present we can only open
if we are willing to give back the gift
the heart's logical mathematics
is a lesson no one can truly teach
it's a rainbow to a blind man
a sermon no evangelist can preach
no sense can be reasoned out
of the obscurities of the human heart
it's lucidity to an utter madman
it feeds diamonds to a shark
for the ways of love and loss
are like a river and cast off stones
they wander drifting like a forlorn sailor
until they finally find a home.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Reaching for Wisdom with Foolish Hands

Drawing Hands, 1948 by M.C. Escher
"Men are made stronger on realization that the helping hand they need is at the end of their own arm." ~Sidney J. Phillips
I define my own ways at the sketching of my own hand,
drawing my own lines of reason like heritage defines a man.
The view that lies before me is a photo that only I can snap.
I can choose to capture the future or get tangled in the past.
All the expectations I hope to have unfold within my own arm's reach,
are not given by this world but earned painstakingly by only me.
For life is a pilgrimage of perspectives that I alone can observe and utilize
no other soul can grant it, my own hands must reach out and truly try.