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| picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900123143211/ |
The beach is
deserted, it’s a cold wet midweek morning.
The cliffs dissolve
behind a silver cloak of lonely tears.
Seagulls drift on
currents in a blue grey sky that’s falling
towards crashing
waves that swell with the depths of our despair.
I don’t emit a
presence, emptiness displaces conscious thought,
and the waves keep
coming closer, with foaming arms, they reach for me,
for I am this
landscape, the wild cold wind, the storm,
and I assail this
shore with the singular purpose,
to erode my existence
of the impermanent impact
of my footprints in
the sand.
I don't emit a presence, emptiness displaces conscious thought --- I feel those words and no longer fight that feeling knowing that it will pass and then return again. Nothing stays the same.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
Your existence matters, be assured.
ReplyDeleteWow! Beautiful words!
ReplyDeleteI don’t emit a presence, emptiness displaces conscious thought,--- I too picked up on that line.
For I am this landscape.
I felt those waves and the wild cold wind.
Placed you on my blog today, as a poet I admire! (Smiles) :)
Thank you Jacqueline, *yiphee* and *laughter*
DeleteThis reminds me of the Buddhist mandala philosophy. You leave your marks and then they fade but what you made can stick with you as long as your memory is there. Lovely.
ReplyDelete