I
the last autumn leaf cleaves
bone tired, refusing to fall
grasping the weathered phalange
extending from the gnarled skeletal branch
reaching ….
by a mere filament it hangs
to stubborn … or
too tired to fall
II
that feeling, at days end
when the marrow has been sucked
from the core of your life
when you just too tired to sigh
……
yes, one of those days
that’s how I wake up these days
© 2020 michael d emmerich
© 2020 mikesnexus.com
home is where we start
but not where were it ends
the pathway from birth to death
is littered with choices
collected, used, stored, discarded
some stones sparkle and tempt
others lie cracked, damaged, exposed
by life's harsh realities
yet there is value in these damaged stones
and then, one day, I will die somewhere
against my will or another’s
but not today
if I pass away in some foreign field
sun burnt white back bones
the brittle stations of the cross
civilisations like bones
… turn to dust
who will know to come and mourn?
if they knew, would they?
eulogy or legacy
what remains
.. other than another day
as the worlds falls apart
the strings are pulled
it all unravels, at the end
I can’t leave, but eventually I will
just passing through
all paths eventually arrive at the same destination whatever one’s station be it the cross or another unity at the end playing fields are levelled for in death all are equal paths of glory or despair all lead to death none can transcend or escape the level playing field
who the fuck are you? who tells you who you are? the world or your inner voice? what is this life what’s the reason or purpose? born, exist, die passion before action affirming what is before yes, suffering is real for a season choose one, fall into discontent only one time for each season let your inner voice scream into the chasm even if fuck all happens
delicate filigree entwining enticing, ensnaring woven webs capturing beauty created by the unknown what lies in the voids the spaces between threads what could be isn’t there or is it the mystery of the unknown …… just imagine
looking back, I gaze at a red and broken past around my feet lies the present an uncertain yet clear future lies before surrounded by pain time spent with the dead and dying understanding death at times comes easier than conversing with the living contemplation brings a deeper appreciation of life all I want my epitaph to be is not confusion, but ….. “just trying to leave someone alive”
it’s a mystery to me how it commences only the wind remembers from whence it came and where it goes yet we wish on it with dandelions in bloom will the wind ever remember that wish it blows on its way for at the end of the day all for that we yearn is to be remembered by name at days end when the clouds lift light will breakthrough yet the wind will not look back but …. what of us, should we
time passes as the river flows from whence it comes to where it goes cutting a pathway leaving scars in its wake once passed we cannot return in the beginning from birth forced through cracks from a trickle great steams grow going with the flow as time passes great rivers are master sculptors seeking new horizons forging into the unknown until at days end all rivers merge no second chances all the while time passes
a poem of reflection …..
under the influence of life all things merge into one forming a single perfect storm motionless I lay on the turgidity can approaching silence be so quiet? waiting in hope, in time and silence a single menacing mass approaches gray clouds merging into a single menacing black mass waiting and listening in the silence what defines you now is how you deal with this tempest afterward, do you lie basking in the sunlight or broken, bruised on the rocks for in that silence you will be defined
mikesnexus 