Being Quiet

31 Mar 2022

·CuldeSac

Dylan Thomas was willing to fight when it was his time Shying away from some things he reasoned to oppose the natural Though one would be inclined to talks of fighting while in youth Thomas Aquinas talked of the light in both faith and reason One may be striking against dying and the repeating thereof Though it never sat well with me independent from the poor verse Attempts of having conflict with the mechanism of the unfolding Suggest both a difference between the beginning and the end And of course the keen imposition on how life in essence works Over time the universe takes place by principle of dissolving And so what comes to be held so dear within our hearts Is born from the steady process of a general unmaking Although the human mind likes to think in terms of building What the human is comprised of is in essence from the unbecoming It sees in reverse everything it might come to hold dear And so the speaker makes time for writing things backwards Even this thing of non-existence might attempt to make straight The base of requirement in order to invent meaning to the story Man forgets that legends are simply told for entertainment To ask a child the meaning of a cartoon's existence is folly The world is large and the night long and dark begging questions Public figures frame leathery faces in the light of campfires Dawn of man's invention finding fullness in the late hours Free in the lightless fathoms bordered by the flickering hearth One comes back to realize there is no eternal struggle For if this would be a game we are all together in check mate Everything dissolves back in the wash of time to whence it came From what you have come you shall also one day return Eat as much honey as you can for to your soul it is good Its sweetness does not betray the quality of its content The air tastes as good to the nose as the spring time air But March is called March for a reason as we prepare for war If he comes and a parent's heart does not turn to the child's And a child's heart does not turn it to the parent then I fear The ends of the earth will glow hot white as a raging furnace Cathedrals that are built by the wisdom of ant hills will burn For life is fickle enough to have us imagine it never happens And moments are lost to the milling of our spiteful minds Selah

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CuldeSac

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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