CREATIVE WRITING AND PROSE
PULLING
Seasons, glorious turnings of spring to summer,
Falling into autumn with the blister of winter at it’s heels.
There are days that lay heavy on the soul.
Could there have been other roads?
The heart chooses the best it can
but we are delusional in our grasp of control.
Like a bottle floating in an open ocean, we are subject to swells
and never ending, always bending currents
pulling us onward.
Sometimes backwards.
Until we reach the shore.
Inside of us, a mirror that reflects the thoughts
The doubts,
The hopes,
The prayers
And the resolves.
Magnifying their presence
We can either look into those reflections
Or shine them outward.
A world of emotion hidden behind,
Keeping our secrets close.
Keeping our journey silent.
To look around in the world
And see below the surface.
To see the seasons of others,
To find them drifting in the tides.
We are together but separate in our struggles
Yet from above, we are closer than we think.
A universal pain that reverberates from within,
Yet we tell our stories as if there is no heartache
No loss
No regrets
No longings
Humanity is found in the scars,
It is found in the battles won
But also in the surviving triumph of loss.
Our fragility,
Our honesty
Our most vulnerable telling of life’s journey
Is where our hearts truly come alive.
My pain I share with you,
So that you may know that we are not alone,
In our drifting.
I will watch the stars above us,
Along side of you.
The water will carry us at its will
But we will be together.
Always.
FOOTSTEPS IN IRON BOOTS
We roam in search of the strings that tie the broken pieces together again.
The glue that mends that which has shattered.
Our secret fears that lie hidden under years of calloused flesh.
Prisoner of our defenses, severed from the source, an unholy independence.
So many stories sprouted in the watering of tears,
one droplet at a time that floods the rivers within,
carrying us without destination.
One painful lesson at a time.
We could run to corners of worlds never seen,
seek comfort in empty gazes that trigger the pulse and satisfy the immediate
but we are still left chasing our invisible truths.
Human of the flesh, scars naked to the eye that bleed just the same.
Lost. These roads, these mountainous perils
that challenge our directions, our sense of will
and the illusion of man made control.
A deepening sadness felt in the eyes of fellow travelers
left circling in the darkness.
Cups that run dry despite the overflowing well
and a freewill that poisons beauty.
A body that shutters in discontent when the conscious is mocked and purged
leaving only selfish desire.
A misaligning from the spirit in Garden known as Eden,
Man's denigration towards imperfection.
Forever in search for the fruit that dares not doom us to expulsion
but rather inclusion in a greater hereafter.
Yet, despite the ravenous taste of knowledge
we are still left wandering ,searching.
I the see shame of 10,000 years in eyes of strangers.
I feel the ache of the human heart that does not dwell in the chest
but is shared on a weather worn sleeve I am too proud to mend.
We go about our days, wielding our swords for battles that may never be won
yet we thwart with all our might
attacks against imaginary demons that share our same reflection.