Well-Worn Scars

WELL-WORN SCARS

Reach beyond

What’s meant to be

These moments

We’ve come to see

Where life is more

Than you or me

The needs of self

In the scope of things

Doth not happiness bring

Tis in the giving of self

My heart sings

If I had

What I doth seek

Would it be right

Or my spirit weak

Nay,

Of true happiness

Ti’s bleak

The solitude

That hath come in time

Brings some things barren

Others sublime

In truth, this being alone

Bringeth an illusion

That of a home

When in truth

In solitude

I roam

They say through tests

We grow a lot

Well my friend

That is my lot

Though true happiness

Is what I’ve sought

By reaching out

We may stumble, may fall

But in the end

We become enthralled

Search high and low

The goal elusive

And will not show

For the answers arrive

When away from self

We strive

So around and around it goes

And the future,

Well,

No one knows

And our well-worn scars

Shows

So what is it you see

The hopeless romantic in me?

Or is it the way

I strive to be

In service to the Divinity

For now and all eternity

-Shiidon, April 2010

Well, it seems self serving to speak of self after a poem about striving for selflessness, ha! :-)

Well, this poem welled up in me and burst out on paper. Some poems I type directly into the computer and others I sit and write with my fountain pen. Others well then come and leave before they make it on paper or screen and are lost in the space that we find between us. I find writing such a powerful tool. It seems that feelings well up inside and once the poem or story is written I am spent. It is done, finished. Some are shared, others not. Mostly I post them here for whomever wishes to read them. That is the strange part for me. I am not sure who reads these posts or what they may think. I do know that the amount of times this blog has been seen numbers in the thousands, which is daunting to me. Suffice it to say that I am a writer and in writing I find my solace.