"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Waiting on the Shore (a poem)

Waiting on the Shore
Written October 1st, 2011
Icy September water
Sighs softly as it kisses the shore
Pitch black from the touch
Of a tense, starless night
The water swirls, rolling, undulating,
Lapping at my feet

A breeze rushes by
Lifting and tossing my hair
So it can touch my neck;
Soft, exposed, and vulnerable
Leaving a sinister whisper in my ears
A secret I can’t quite decipher

The sighs of the black lake
Become impatient, steadily louder
Till the ripples are roaring waves
Crashing and dissipating at my feet
The foam weaving through my toes
The water beckons
A temptress whispering promises
That my frozen ears can’t quite hear

The gentle weeping fingers
Of a kind-spirited willow
Carefully brush my shoulders
Perhaps to hold me back
From the inviting waves
But as the breeze runs through
The willow’s long silken hair,
Perhaps instead it’s pushing me forward
With a comforting smile

There’s something gathering
On the hazy, shadowy horizon
Of this black October lake
It’s advancing across the roiling water
Coming into shore
But in the depths of midnight
I cannot identify this approaching mass

‘Neath a sky of dark October clouds
The black lake rolls
The chill breeze comes and goes
The willow whispers
And I remain at shore

Inspired by a walk along Seneca Lake at night when the sky was cloudy and stormy. While the poem sounds suicidal, this is not what I orginally intended at all. At the end, as the poem discusses something coming on the horizon, this is an expression of the feeling I've been having for a while that something is coming. Something good. A mixture of describing the scenery at Seneca lake and this sensation turned out dark and moody in this poem, although my emotions are actually very positive. This is another poem produced by the dark phase I appear to be going through in my writing, inspired by the changing seasons.