Requiem For a Paper Boat
The reason no longer matters.
The finality towed out behind that small,
paper boat has now severed possibilty
and left the hand that launched it, empty.
Birds follow, singing a requiem.
I want something in its place, large enough
to envelope thought, accomodate catastrophes
and offer vistas of stars, galaxies and out
towards that edge where all things cease
and exceed understanding.
I would like something that creates
no fracture or disturbance in the order
of things, but settles gently and calms
the rush and anger boiling on the surface
of where life is lived.
To have no hierarchy but that given
gladly in the inherent value of life itself,
to accept what falls from fate and celebrate
that which comes forth in the exquisite
play of this unfolding world.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment