The Sojourn, Self

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* The reworking of an old piece *

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.

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