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Tribute To Silence
The mountains engulf and embrace me, Like the sun shining through a window, Pulverising the darkness and gloom, With hopefulness and truth, Making me aware of my possibilities, Not numerous but few - Allowing me to choose between two. I prioritise, and focus just on one goal, Resolve to achieve my ambition, Find in myself my actions and am spurred on, To proportion the gulf which stares up at me: The chasm flees when normal people interact; The unsaid but spoken disappears instantly, Providing me with care constantly. The view exists as humankind exists, But while many people beg to differ with one another, Nature eats up those who can't be edified - Those who augment it with a god to trace, Whatever is said, whatever is done, Mustn’t be normal, easy - natural, But rather should be contrived and conventional. That we evolved is dear and liberating, As a lover who wets her beholder’s cheek: Faithful relationships soothe our spirits, Connecting us with nature and public; I know I came from the mountains and the hills, From which I take courage, vigour and have duty, From rugged, sheer beauty. Is this beauty crude, or does it manage, The looks of my accusers who bare me? It dismisses them with assumptive glare, Kindness gently certifies their stabbing buzz, Until heaven and hell are constructs waiting to touch: Which, but for the inside’s surmise, will indeed myself mar, And but for my silent thoughts, which do the spartans bar. The view also relinquishes flightiness for me to pour, Over the collars of the parallel and the same: Marched in by sociopathers, the directors of freedom; I receive from naturalism’s stance, it's posit, Billowing amounts of heart, drive and chance, And decide to accept the opportunities which will embrace - In concern - with well-being, affection and grace. My suspicions, intentions and instincts see the complex, How it should be deconstructed, with pleasure, Out with the validated by a clergyman or Christian leader, Who evince as harder and more boring than nails; What entails then stimulates on into waving meadows, And so, not silenced by the silence I sit in having cried - Feeling accepted and taken - I'm respected to them deride.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things