Remnants –

“Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.”
Giuseppe di Lampedusa, The Leopard

“The fire which seems extinguished often slumbers beneath the ashes.”
Pierre Corneille

ineluctablewords
The dreams you thought should happen
they never came to be
The plans spent in the night pursuing
disappeared unseen
With shattered glass under your feet
precious things undone
In a foreclosed heart your hiding
thinking shadows won
Fears your always one forgotten
on thirsty ground
Thunder is heard in cloudy darkness
stirring ashes found
Remnant future slain in jest
giving life to plains
Revelation in the reaching bolts
healing of the shame
*
First published in Opinions Of Eye
 

 

An Essay of Change – Great change comes from within

In the death of a moment, there lies the birth of tomorrow
I give way this time, but in the end, no sorrow.

crestock

    
I have to clear the way for a change to take place. I have to shove off from shore, from the expected, the habitual. Push myself into the storm were I will see what I am, and better yet, become a new thing. How will I know of what I am capable of unless Im pushed to the outermost limits of my understanding and endurance, physically, mentally, and emotionally? I must embrace the cataclysm of my existence. Great man are great by passing through the vice-like press of doubt, fear, loneliness, and tragedy. Through being broken, I can be made whole, maxing out my potential. 
     
I have no way to explain that who I am now, is no where near who I was a year ago. Remnants, yes, perhaps. It is a strange knowing, a responsibility, to be made whole after so long. No more blame for the past, no more excuses. I am tethered up so high on the crux of the rock, that even if I fall from here, I will never be as far down as I was earlier in my life. Now, I set my sights ever higher. To the next summit, the next storm, I will press on.


An Essay of Change – Great change comes from within

In the death of a moment, there lies the birth of tomorrow
I give way this time, but in the end, no sorrow.

crestock

    
I have to clear the way for a change to take place. I have to shove off from shore, from the expected, the habitual. Push myself into the storm were I will see what I am, and better yet, become a new thing. How will I know of what I am capable of unless Im pushed to the outermost limits of my understanding and endurance, physically, mentally, and emotionally? I must embrace the cataclysm of my existence. Great man are great by passing through the vice-like press of doubt, fear, loneliness, and tragedy. Through being broken, I can be made whole, maxing out my potential. 
     
I have no way to explain that who I am now, is no where near who I was a year ago. Remnants, yes, perhaps. It is a strange knowing, a responsibility, to be made whole after so long. No more blame for the past, no more excuses. I am tethered up so high on the crux of the rock, that even if I fall from here, I will never be as far down as I was earlier in my life. Now, I set my sights ever higher. To the next summit, the next storm, I will press on.