I used to love watching sunrises and sunsets - but now, whenever I see one, all I can think about is how many more I will get to enjoy, and how much time I have left; time was always something that I thought I had a lot of, time with people was something that I foolishly took for granted - then I was physically and emotionally struck by a loss so overwhelming that my entire attitude towards life and what was important was impacted. Some things hit you hard but you learn to recover from them... some things knock you off your stride but you can relearn how to walk again... some things you can stop doing but you can resume at a later date; however, there are some things - like seeing the face of someone who you love who you have lost - that you know you might have to hold on to for a long time, because if you want to see someone again you might have to wait, and, most importantly, you might have to hold on to something even more valuable and precious: your faith. Over the course of a life everybody finds someone and something to believe in... from beginning to end everybody's life is a story that has so much detail to it that even if you tried you wouldn't be able to recall, nor capture, every last thing... when you wake up every morning it can take a while to remember who you are, where, and what happened - even the events of the night before... when everybody goes to bed at night - but before they dream the night away - there is a time that feels like you are watching a tide rise that you are unable to stop looking at and can not walk away from because what is coming towards you is a force of the universe that reminds us of where we came from, where we've been, where we are going, and somewhere that only those who perceive time non-linearly know for sure what is ultimately in store.
contemplation
My Poem “Pool of Contemplation”
As I sit looking at the ripples
upon this pool that I have been
familiar with since I was a child,
I contemplate so much about what I know,
about what I don’t know,
about what has happened, about life,
and about what will happen
when all is said and done
and when the world feels like it has been
put back together after such a long
period of feeling as is if
the seams that held everything together
were beginning to become undone.
I know this place…
I have stared into this water
more times than I can remember…
I have a connection to this place…
I once sat down and painted this very pond
long ago when I was a child –
and then, just as now, I felt compelled
to see and to find shimmering
sources of inspiration, of connection,
of that something about nature
that feels indefinable, magical,
wonderful, and phenomenal.
There has always been something
calming to me about staring
into a pool of water…
there has always been something
ethereal about the thought of
what may be found within the depths
a puddle, a pool, a pond, a river,
a sea, an ocean –
beyond the surface, below the waves –
where nobody can venture to
without external oxygen
or without an imagination,
to explore things that have
a life of their own,
where things remain unseen
until they are explored,
and where things which always
spark into life
the fire of inspiration:
things that I always find
whenever I look
into a pool of reflection
and contemplation.
My Poem ‘The Shroud of Destiny’
The shroud of destiny…
the mysterious cloak of fate…
the lasting spirit that will walk
the Earth one day with the last of humanity…
the drape of infinity as dark
as the matter that veils
the wonders of outer-space…
the personification of all life
that can be seen waiting and contemplating
before a single wick of candlelight…
the one who knows the ultimate fate of the living
and where people go when they die…
they who have no face,
but who still have a form…
they who beckon from the end of days,
and who silently warn…
I have seen them…
I have stood and looked at them,
and I have been mesmerized by them…
I have wondered what they were thinking,
and what they would say to me if they could…
they who do not move when they are in contemplation –
and yet being in their presence
and seeing the darkness that covers them is enough
to bring out so many emotions and questions…
Destiny knows me… Destiny knows us all…
Destiny knows the days gone by, and the days yet to be…
Destiny knows so much, and Destiny says so much –
without even having to say a word…
you would think that staring into Destiny
would be a frightening thing for anyone to do,
but I personally believe that Destiny
is a silent teacher with so much to teach…
Destiny too has a destiny,
and until the day comes when they see themselves
in the mirror of time
I do not think they will ever speak…
as soon as I saw Destiny for the first time
I was inspired to write about them
in the voice of my gift: poetry –
and there they will stay
and walk the spaces between my words,
and so they will shadow my footsteps,
until the day when I turn around
and I accept and I wear
the shroud of my destiny.
“Destiny is always in the dark.”
Mark The Poet 