We tread in the turbulence
Only to save ourselves
Creating our own human condition
We set our own foolish fires
As we direct our demise
Blindfolded
Do you ask why?
Do you feel each wispy breath as it
Leaves your tired lungs, wondering
Why we are here?
Listen to the faintest crackle
Of leaves on the forest floor
This is the voice of truth
Feel the soft skin on your lips
As you kiss a babyβs cheek
This is the canvass of innocence
Follow the red lines in the eyes
Of the man begging on the street
This is the road map to justice
And we have lost our way
~
Brian Miller is hosting at dVerse! He asked us to write about philosophy.
Β
THANKS FOR VISITING. I DO HOPE YOU ARE READING THIS POST ON MY BLOG AS IT WAS ORIGINALLY CREATED.
PLEASE SPEAK UP REGARDING CHANGES TO THE READER.
https://en.forums.wordpress.com/topic/reader-view/page/6?replies=170
Hand connection.. leaves of forest drop
Love in fertile souls of sand..
a crippled knee..
a mind unease..
do we feel
the connection
as the
dirt of
earth
connects our
heart in giving
leaves of spirit
soil of soul
nourishing
giving
Leaves
LOVe..:)
Thanks for your poetic response. π
I specially admire the canvas of innocence and road map to justice ~ We are always asking the question, why we are here ~
That is what caught my eye as well. Questioning is good.
Thank you, Grace.
Treading in the turbulence isn’t easy, but somehow we do most often find that map we are looking for….but it is a bit sad when we find we have lost our way! Wisdom in your poem.
Thanks Mary. π
Yes we do set our own foolish fires. Some of them blaze out of control. Love “the canvass of innocence.” There is much wisdom here and it is beautifully written. Thank you.
Thank you ds.
Wow. Those last several lines really make this poem for me. From the soft cheek of a baby to the blood shot eyes of a brother on the street. How small the distance between them eh.
Thank you, glad you liked it. π
These are my favorites:
“Listen to the faintest crackle
Of leaves on the forest floor
This is the voice of truth”
The last two lines.
Excellent writing.
Thank you so much for your kind comment. π
“Listen to the faintest crackle / Of leaves on the forest floor / This is the voice of truth”…we’ve lost the power of hearing so we miss the truth of life and try to amass what not which we have to leave one day….so beautifully written…
So true, Sumana. We often attach value to the wrong places. Thanks for reading. π
The last line suggests that we are losing our connection with valuing the simple things of life. But it does not suggests all is hopeless. Perhaps, reminders like your poem will help.
Yes, there is always hope. Thanks for your comments, Gemma. π
I love your poem. It has an innovative way of asking those existential questions. Then again our current human situation requires something innovative, so we can stop burning those fires.
Thank you, Myrna. I agree…and poetry is one way to express it.
Much to reflect on in this. For me, it seems you call attention to our narcissistic view of our world and the tumult that results. It blinds us.
Your interpretation is very close to my intentions of the poem. I think that we search too hard sometimes for the reasons of our existence, but I believe we’re here for each other.
You are my favorite poet!
beverly…those five words would be my most favourite comment…..ever.
Thank you SO much. It has been a pleasure to follow your blog.
oh wow. What a powerful indictment! So true that we have lost our way! Your bit about lighting fires reminded me of the wild-fires we recently had in the province where I live…the most horrible part of which: some of those fires were deliberately set. Oh yes, we often do blindly create our own troubles!
The fires are a tragedy and even worse to think that someone would add to the mayhem by deliberately destroying nature. Stay safe, Bryan.
Thanks for your comments…always appreciated.