SPIRITUAL POETRY
On Twitter @GEvolves
INSPIRED BY THE FINDING GOD ON THE TRAIN STORY
THE QUEST FOR A POSITIVE, PERSONAL SPIRITUALITY.
READ THE FIRST BOOK
IN THIS THREE BOOK
FINDING GOD ON THE TRAIN STORY SERIES
TITLED THE CRYSTAL PATH - QUEST FOR A POSITIVE,
PERSONAL, AND CONTEMPLATIVE SPIRITUALITY
OFFERED FREE AT
Life itself is a cycle of becoming, then being,
then shedding what must be let go to make
way for what may be waiting on the path ahead.
This cycle exists within each sentient entity
and, I believe, is the very fabric of nature
from the minute to the magnificent – this cyclic
force propels us forward to greater growth and
potentials.
The other day, I had just finished meditating,
and looking up at the grand old tree that
shares my existence near our back deck,
I thought, what might this wonderful tree,
having witnessed more years than me,
convey as its wisdom. The poem below,
This Shedding Time was the response.
THIS SHEDDING TIME
Only a heavy wind might shake these
withering leaves from tired limbs,
allowing once again a winter’s restoration,
regeneration, as November skies remind
of chills to come, as thoughts of spring
remind of the prize – new life rebounding -
so alien in this shedding time, yet even so,
is not this destiny to revive, to shake
full-leaved beneath a brighter sky.
POEM G. 11.3.2016
It is during these shedding times that I
feel reluctantly compelled to reflect on the
journey of my existence to date, contemplating
my staggering, often fitful progress. As I do,
I realize that I come to these moments of
reflection aware that something within my
essential nature, all human nature, perhaps
all nature itself moves us beyond our
temperamental strivings, forcefully forward
towards what is often our progressive but
bruised becoming, as the poem below so
graphically contends.
FORCEFULLY FORWARD
We arrive at this moment transfixed
on this occasion when destiny, desire,
and hapless luck again intertwine
to convey us chaotically, forcefully forward
towards potentials no more firmly
established than the prevailing winds
of past precedence, with scars inflicted,
hopes dashed, sincerities questioned –
again to bob and weave with a bloody face
and blurred vision until our weighted
arms surrender to the temptations
of uncertain repose, as our hearts scream
finished, our souls refuse to waiver,
grasping for a piercing breath, then another,
until our pounding chest subsides,
arms awaken freshly invigorated as
body motion thrusts our fists of hope
with solid aspiration.
POEM G. 11.2. 2016
WITH LOVE, G
Recent Comments