Thursday, November 26, 2009
Cresting waves of cloud
White with foam
Like an ever-crashing tide
With no shore to call home,
Tinged pink by
A swiftly-setting sun
Just wave after wave
Spanning the globe,
Through break in violent sea
I see
The irregular grids that
Mark civilization,
Like the scars of past dreams,
The legacy of men and women
Ill-content with a life of chasing...
Grass that's more green.
Through the crystal waters
of calmer seas
I see

Like electrons attracted to their nucleus within,
perhaps people are attracted to, and invariably surround, some greater force, some dominant energy, some life-giving power that, when stumbled across, beckons that we stay a while, take rest from the eternal mobility of purpose. it beckons we set up shop and just see what happens.

but then,
those people don't see what i see,
confined by land
is that the world is full of opportunity,
and they are not free,
that i,
though similarly confined
by chair and cabin and general lack of atmosphere at a cruising altitude of 34,000 ft,
i am living,
i am free.


Daniel Stewart Mueller at 10:53 AM |


Post a Comment