Our World

Image courtesy of severinghaus.org

We live in a world
Where every leaf cries out
To be touched
To be caressed
To be fondled.
Where every twig and branch
Every twist and braid
Of a wrought iron fence
Every concrete frond
Of an ornamental fern
Longs to be traced,
That we may know its face
That it may impart a bit of its wisdom,
A bit of its soul,
In that moment of contact.
That we might recognize inside of it,
And inside of this moment,
And inside of this space,
A bit of the secret contained within.
That we might learn
That it carries life within it
That it is a being all its own
That it does not need us to exist,
But that it wishes to be known
To have its face remembered,
If only in that moment
When the fingers,
Casually or causally,
Meet its cool and welcoming surface.
To be touched.
To be known.

We live in a world
Where pens and pencils call
With silent voices
To be held
Stroked
Cradled.
They wish to be touched,
Not only to be known,
But that they might pass on their gift
Of eternal life.
The sharpest point is dull,
And the pen that remains full
Is soon dried out.
They mire in solitude
Half alive
Unfulfilled
Leading neglected lives.
But to be blunted,
Oh, to be blunted!
To be emptied,
Oh, to be emptied!
Such reward,
To be of use,
To know purpose at last.
Blunted
Sharpened
Blunted.
Emptied
Filled
Emptied.
Used and used and used up,
But for a purpose.
But with intent.
But in good faith.
So much wisdom to capture
So much history to record
So much laughter to inspire
So much sadness to reveal
And happiness to share.
For ink and lead both know
That within them lies the key
To immortality.
They alone possess that gift.
It is theirs to bestow,
If only one would claim it
Pick them up
Touch them
Caress them
Fondle them
Empty and blunt them
Fill and sharpen them
Put them to use.

We live in a world
Where the people we love
Love people.
Where the people we know
Know people.
Where the people we think about
Think about people.
The reflections in our eyes
Reflect the eyes of others,
Others unseen by our own.
The people we care about
Care about people.
The impressions they give us
Are given to them,
By us
By others
By themselves.
When we close our eyes to them
Close our minds to them
They live on.
When they are gone from us
They are not gone.
They live and laugh and love and linger
In the thoughts and minds and eyes
Of others.
Others known and unknown to us.
The people we long for
Long for people
Long for memories
Long for the future
Long for the lost moments,
Uncaptured, not forgotten,
Long for the real and the unreal
Blur reality and fiction
Choose what to keep
Choose what to discard
Choose where to be within themselves.
And these people
Long to be touched,
As we do.
They long to be held
To be caressed
To be fondled,
As we do.
They long to be blunted,
Oh, to be blunted!
They long to be emptied,
Oh, to be emptied!
And sharpened
And filled
And blunted
And emptied
Used and used and used up,
But for a purpose.
But with intent.
But in good faith.
As we do.

So touch them,
These leaves and branches.
Pick them up,
These tools,
And use them.
Fondle and caress these people you love,
These people in your life.
Do not let them go.
Empty and fill them,
Blunt and sharpen them,
And they will fill you,
And they will blunt you,
And they will empty you,
And they will sharpen you.
They will caress and fondle you.
They will use you and use you and use you up,
But for a purpose.
But with intent.
But in good faith.

Advertisements

About anotherexilefromparadise

I am a writer, by passion if not by profession.
This entry was posted in Thoughts and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Tell me what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s