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.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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