It occurs to me now
That all that remains unseen,
Unheard, unfelt, unknown to us
Does not do so for its elusiveness -
But for the lost opportunity
Of unwillingness and inability.
The images that exist in darkness,
The songs that fly by on wings of silence,
The weight of transparent, paper thin
Contact lenses sitting, not floating, on corneas
Are never nonexistent,
But are often… overlooked.
The fleeting colors of so called reality,
The crash and bang of everyday,
And the heaviness of the clothes we wear
To cover up our own nakedness
Steal our attention –
And close our eyes and ears and hearts
To the everything-else we dare not know.
We are, it seems
Nearly always, half asleep
In our wakefulness.
Until - unless - we stumble into
That pool of forgotten clarity
And drown ourselves there
(in a half inch of rain water, even)
Until the lungs of numbness fill
And foolishness dies
So that we may, finally – open, wide,
Long neglected ears and hearts and eyes
And, by virtue of overwhelming awareness
Become unwilling and unable to deny
How we were truly meant
To live our lives.
We are, it seems Nearly always, half asleep In our wakefulness. Chris you inspired it! ! ! This state of unending circuitous trance this silence full of speech and truth san roots and victories that we bask in are rife with sagas of defeat yes that liquefied inch-deep awakening is the garment we need for the scorched existence alas san suns Hugs Emancipate- rehan
Just as I finished reading this poem, a movie came on TV - a blind man dancing with a pretty damsel he's fallen in love with, and she with him. Why would a girl fall for a man who would never see her - the silences of voices unheard, the images that form in the dark, as you say, Austin. It's all out there and we can only sift what we can from all the unwritten letters of life, which we nevertheless read, for they are thrust on us. This gives us hope, real hope. a moving write
A real winner, Christine: you manage to say what others think but haven't got the words. Thank you.
٭ ٭ ٭ ٭ ٭ 5star poem. you have opened a new way of seeing life. it feels like one has literally drowned and was given a second chance to live. amazing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Them moments of clarity, that we see true reality. OF THE SPIRITUAL