Watch the Light

Watch
The light
Move
Listen
To the sounds
The way they bounce
And reflect
From and to
Those who
Need it to see
Need it to hear
What was there
All along.

Where does it go
Why
And what legacy does it leave behind?

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The Hum of a City Waiting

So the day has passed
And now I sit
Contemplative
Resting in the comfort and stillness of the night air
Watching
As shadows move across the ceiling above
As the walls hold strong in their resolve to remain

I listen
To the gentle sound of the wind
And can hear as well
Passing cars
Laughter
And the hum of a city waiting

The Flapping of the Smallest Feather Wings

The outcome of the daily weather does not depend entirely upon
The gusts of wind which carry over the oceans and seas
From the turning of the Earth
And the centrifugal force of its incredible mass
Rather
There are the most minute imperfections
Movements
Of beasts and of individuals
That shift the balance ever so slightly
But ever so crucially
The flapping of the smallest feather wings
Twisting in time
Across open plains many miles away

For every action
There is an equal and opposite reaction
A shifting in the universe in which the change occurs
Which ripples out
As a wave
Interacting with
Cancelling out and strengthening
Other waves and particles

We are responsible
Each and every one
For the impact that we have
On the environment and the lives we interact with
As our choices
Reach out far beyond ourselves
Into other worlds
Into other stories
Like extensions of ourselves
Through which we experience
The world around us

Life, and the Path It Follows

The Earth is alive
Even when it is sleeping
Under so many layers
Of ice and debris
Clinging tightly
To the frozen ground
As loose debris blows
Gently over the layered snow
Traveling
From place to place
Participating
In an equation far too complex to be captured within the realm of our understanding
An equation based on chaotic interaction
And chance
And a pesky little detail
Ascribed the title of “free will”
Or life
A far more complicated chain of events
Beautiful
And utterly overwhelming
In the eccentricities by which
It impacts the universe it interacts with
Which is in itself
Utterly unique and completely without equal
In the grandeur by which it is arranged
And the incomprehensible possibilities
That it could be arranged any other way
And enable our lives to carry out as they do
Moving
And carving
Little lines through everything we touch
Leaving reminders
That we were there
That we existed
Enduring
And deeply impactful
To all of the other objects and living things
With which we share this space
To the situations that they encounter
As well as in the decisions they make when confronted with them
For we are a part of something far larger and more powerful than ourselves
Life
And the path that it follows at it unfolds before all of our eyes
The stories that are written
The loves that are shared
And the marks that are left
In time
We build
A legacy that we are proud of
Marks that tells a story of truth and of honor
Of growth and of development
As we learn to be
Something more than just a collection of cooperating cells
Looking out for itself in a world of enemies and friends alike
But rather an active participant
In an experience shared
With everything we interact with
From the smallest of this worlds materials
To the massive stars and black holes that fill the night sky
All engaged in a cosmic dance
Through time itself
A movement which started
Far before we arrive
And will continue
Long after we are gone

To Not Be Filled with Wonder

Inspired by the poem Not to Wonder by Tornadoday.

To not be filled with wonder
When staring up at the starry skies above
When looking out at the great expanse and seeing only light
In all directions
Moving
So fast
And yet so slowly
As representations of long-dead distant worlds float ceaselessly through empty space
Waiting to be discovered
Waiting to be seen
And experienced
To be known
And therefor to have existed

To not be filled with upmost awe
When gazing down through focused glass
When observing clearly a tiny realm and revealing only chance
And strings
That extend in all directions
Moving
Rapidly
And yet with such precision
Carving representations of possibilities limitless and relatively absurd in nature
Waiting to be observed
Waiting to be recorded
And understood
To be known
And therefor to have existed

What It Is to Rise and Fall

It is said
We are born of the soil
No more than dust made flesh
Destined as such to return someday
Scattered as it were
To every corner of the turning Earth

If this is so
I should hope we may one day know
What it is to rise and fall
To move with the seasons
To be blown about
Without care for where we land
Content in knowing
That we are more than the total of our digits and limbs
More than the flesh which stretches across muscle and bone

For is it not so
That every grain of sand which is tossed about
In the seas and in the inland rivers
Has seen more than we could ever truly know
Has been more than we would care to admit
Precious in that no number can contain
No words can put to meaning
The vast and awesome power of this fragile balance
Wherein we lie
Somewhere between
What we call life
And that which calls it to be so

With a Breath

Smoke curls gently from the end of a lit cigarette
Hanging in the air
The light filtering slowly through
As the clouds drift aimlessly in the open air
Before falling softly to the floor below

For a moment
I am lost
My mind captured in the swirling smoke
Twisting and floating
Moving aimlessly against minimal resistance

Then
With a breath
An orange glow fills the air
And I return

The Value of Contrast

How I have missed
The rushing wind
The fluid motion
And the ground passing quickly beneath my feet

It would seem I had forgotten
The importance of moving forward
Of unallocated time
Surrender to chance and momentary escape
From the stagnant monotony of a rushed life

I must find balance though
As time is precious
And obligations must be observed
For to see with narrow vision
Even that which is of great beauty and worth
Is to ignore the value of contrast

How strange
This life we lead
Where we learn so much but often fail so to apply the lessons
Grasping it seems
At concepts simple
Until we approach them ourselves and come to realize
That there are always facets elusive our awareness

We can only hope
That with time and a patient heart
We can understand
Even in the smallest way
How to make the most of what we have
How to find satisfaction in imperfection
And even rejoice in failure
Knowing
That no action is without consequences
And that mistakes made
Are opportunities still
To overcome and grow in our resolve
To see the flaws inherent in our design
And adapt thusly