180000
4
...Can you imagine, introspectively
more than just the circle of your friends
a line running way past the present
even seeing around the corners
where one life begins ...and another ends
adding the sum of all the angles
of your ancestral humanity
from its subtle beginnings
through each and every source
...of its humble blends
beyond all awareness
of just who it is you think you are
not to mention whoever it is
...you may claim to be...
extending even further than
the full sphere of your interactions
one step past
what used to be called
...infinity...
to the threshold of the periphery
of where anyone
who has ever held a claim
to be adventurous
has ever chanced to dream
...was so damn scared
they had
to make a deal with God
to let them see...
what comes next
even if, it meant
they couldn't ever return
to tell about it
to teach anyone
who might desire
the chance to learn
to what terminal point
redemption could ever be
to settle with the great unknown
like the first broad strokes of the brush
that painted the first symbols
across the sands of time
to step upon the virgin snow of creativity
to revel in the treasury of spiritual reverence
to bask in the soft warming glow
to see and know the feeling
reflections written across the souls
of all who dared to cross the stream
reading between the lines...
to see themselves fitting in discretely
in the complexity...
the behind the scenes
connectivity...
to skip a stone upon the surface of the pond
lost in the wealth
of the myriad potentialities
drifting in the winds of time and space
more than a simple soul
on this rock we roll on
a sentinel
...seeing through the light
and into the darkness
through the mists of times before?
seeing the unseen, knowing more
about how the lightning bolts fly
than nature could provide
to learn by bending light
back twice upon itself
as if by circumstance
as we find ourselves
following in the patterns
of ideas we've come to know
as reasonable facsimilies
of the truth about
who of the what
we've managed
to come to be.
Just as the flow
of the raindrops
falling through the clouds
ride the winds,
down through space
to the earth below
rising up, and circling back ...down
to find life within the living
not just to blindly follow
the path of least resistence,
as it is said... though
how many times
does this
interactive path
come full circle
...like hailstones
as they gather multiple coats,
like snowflakes,
drifting quietly as ghosts,
as we
have mastered
seven different modes of fire
not counting the microwave
to melt our butter
and to warm our toast.
Yet, why are we
not yet wise enough
to dissipate the waves
of intolerance,
before they rise
and ride
...in the tides
of pain and
misery,
death and
war?
What are
we thinking ...about
going somewhere
...else?
C2
copyright Charles Edward Fields 2
