The journey of becoming


I want to write a poem about how an idea is formed before language knows how to describe it.

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Seeing, yet Believing

It only matters if I’m looking.

Close my eyes, just me, nothing.
Sometimes, I feel my eyes burning.
They have control that they aren’t yearning.

If I close my eyes, the things they would see, still happen.

Things, without my eyes piercing.

Things, not knowing my eyes be looking.

Having not pierced those things, they be, undetected. Those things continue, undisturbed and unaffected.

Them being, having not been affected, all things still beckon.

Waiting for attention.

Father’s Day


One day a year, that’s all you get.

My age in days, in all my time.

Beyond your years, ’tis with regret,

would take to give you, one of mine.

 

This might seem like a cunning plan,

to escape my obligation.

But I conclude – it’s rude to cram,

my thanks in finite occupation.

 

I think my thanks can more be known,

by drawing from the years we’ve spent.

Instead of the thanks you think I’ve shown,

think of the things our time has lent.

 

Considering this reality,

one day of thanks’ absurdity.

Serves only a calamity,

to undisturbed affinity.

 

What’s greater still, than both our years,

is this Earth still endures.

And with it lives, transcends our fears,

that thanks endured, secure.

Absolute Zero


The point of zero is where time and gravity equal zero. We always travel towards where time is less, assuming this results in ageing less.
But time and age are not the same. Age increases as time decreases. 

So what we must really want, is to gain in age in lesser time. 
When time and mass equal each other –  there’s infinite age and zero time. 
Yet it’s living things that aim to escape zero time, the consequence needing time. 

Power


Absolute power, corrupts absolutely.

Power is not granted, it is assumed.

But how is power gained?

Contemplating both well known phrases, an image appears in my mind of the thing called power.
I imagine a very concentrated source of power…and it’s explosive. So dangerous that life itself cannot be near to it. But wouldn’t exist without it. Does life assume it?
Explosive power, spewing out; life absorbing, expanding.
Power spews life – losing and gaining.
If gaining is assuming, what’s left to gain, once assumed?
Well maybe life assuming, dilutes its source of power.

In not granting assumption of power, life’s granted time to gain.

Mother


It’s true that having something,

serves the thing it does.

In doing, becomes nothing.

That nothing that you love.

 

It may be odd to think this way,

about you, Mother dear.

But ask yourself, in each passing day,

‘what dull thoughts do appear?’

 

So please take comfort in the fact,

you’re spared of such mundane.

Know instead, that I thought that…

“perhaps you thought the same?”

 

It’s not the daily toil of life

that gives rise to your gift.

It’s all the things that “I” contrive,

which having you does give.

 

True, having you does something.

It guides my every move.

Most things I do, mean nothing,

but you’re there to approve.

 

Seldom my thoughts leave myself,

but I have pondered this:

Is there something that for yourself,

provides that ‘nothing’ bliss?

 

Well…no use in comparing,

the things that ‘something’ brings.

But in hoping you have something,

my ‘nothing’ disappears.

Still, it Shakes


This world, so big, my eyes reveal,

the vastness I surround.

The stillness shakes my soul to feel.

The stillness shakes, the vast is found.

Still…vastness needs a lot of time,

in which it has been still.

Still I’m shaking, more time I pine;

for stillness, not my own decline!

But that same vastness is achieved,

when seeing wonder in the vast.

Still…shaking I am not aggrieved,

for shaking lives and stillness lasts.