Contemplations

If I were to write a poem, what should it say? Should it be a dabbling of abstract thoughts, a fantasy, a tragedy, a meandering? Should it come from my imagination, a charade, an abstract of image, a delusion, a fabrication? Should it not come from life experiences, lessons learned, a guide line, a compass, an anecdote? The wisdom gained from our experiences in life is the most precious of all. The love, loss, pleasure, pain, sacrifice, struggle, happiness, despair, grief, sadness and sorrow are our teachers if we are wise and our spirit and heart open to receive the knowledge. It is of more value than diamonds, emeralds, or any other thing of temporal value. It is a truth, a spring clear and purifying, a well of experience, a song in our spirit, a familiar voice. It is a gift, a companion, a lesson to teach us humility, a measuring rod showing us how we have faired compared to our fellow man. It is wings to lift us up, to open our minds, to compel us to have empathy, sympathy, to give and help our fellow man. It is love unbound, a stream overflowing with kindness, compassion, desire to make ourselves better and shine so others see the way clearly.