The Sojourn, Self

    I sought my truth within the sky,
 The squally blue, my wings to ply,
A thrust on thermals, carried high.
 And yet, the gospel that I found?
    My feet still fixed to feral ground ...

        I dared to plunge the oceans deep -
           To burn in Neptune's coldest keep,
            And bleed with soft, abiding sleep,
           But dull, his trident couldn't pierce,
        So all endowed me? Failure, fierce ...

    I sought a meaning deep within,
 A quest divorced of flesh or skin,
That honed the rusty blade of sin,
 Yet all the pulp that met me there,
    Was long since rancid with despair ...

        I feigned to know this god above,
           A sacred purpose, bound to love,
            Decanting untold realms, thereof,
           Yet veiled in all the bold expanse?
        A dirge, divine, devoid the dance ...

    However long we're called to stay
 On this blue marble, night-to-day,
Our boundless spirit finds its way,
 Despite our limits, sky and earth ...
    We never cease to mete our worth ...

        'Tis life, the treasure ... death-to-birth.






~ 3rd Place ~  in the "Strand Select N Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

analogyappreciationintrospectionlifespiritualrhyme

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