Farming
25 January 2012
Farming
Hardened, fallow ground, tilled to possibility,
Enriched by exposure to sunshine, gentle rain,
The field is ripe for cultivation once again.
So much begins from the potential of a seed,
Yet nothing grows without struggling against some weeds
So I toil from dawn to dusk but never complain
Because I believe that nothing is done in vain
And we reap what we sow has always worked for me.
I never lose my innocent awe as things grow
From seed to sprout to bountiful harvest at last.
I’ve learned the value of patience, to take things slow,
Knowing the rewards of hard work are unsurpassed.
Such simple wisdom we should never outgrow,
For the fruits of our labor pass away too fast.
Quicksand
14 December 2011
Quicksand
The irony is, the harder I fight,
the less chance I have of becoming free,
the more I struggle, the deeper I’ll be.
With every moment panic fuels my fright,
safety, just out of reach, but still in sight.
I need to be calm, but instinct drives me
to survive, prove superiority,
as if to declare, life is my birthright!
But arrogance will not free me from this,
nor force, when tried against a stronger foe.
The irrational must not be dismissed
when faced with drowning in the undertow.
In surrender, I avoid the abyss,
which goes against everything I know.
Sonnet IX
30 November 2011
Sonnet IX
What used to be should have been left behind,
But I carry it with me, even now,
Because letting go is harder somehow.
I have yet to learn how to be unkind
To ghostly memories which haunt my mind.
Releasing them is for the best I know.
This present moment is mine to allow,
But to see sometimes, we must become blind.
It is difficult to have faith and trust,
Old habits are habits for a reason,
But to intentionally choose I must
Commit the ultimate act of treason.
As with all new things, in time, I’ll adjust
To be in harmony with life’s seasons.
Sonnet VI
02 November 2011
Sonnet VI
The comfort of my routine keeps me sane.
I prefer the familiarity
Of going through the motions regularly,
the same old same old, without any change.
Yet, this very existence is my bane,
A clever disguise, unfortunately,
That covers up my nonconformity,
Almost a need to go against the grain.
Perhaps it’s fear that keeps me stuck like this?
Obstacles can always be overcome,
What courage would I need to change one thing?
Who knows what habits I might never miss
Or what new things I might have never done
Help me let go of that to which I cling.