Reflect (revision)
Tread softly, weaver of fate,
for your future is
as free as falling rain.
Your potential- infinite;
to nourish,
or to drown
Each drop seems nothing
in the vast ocean of life.
Each step, each smile, each voice,
each drop
is a ripple amongst ripple;
A tremor, reshaping the earth.
Be wise, like the twinkling eyes far above,
clouded from us by their beards of mist.
laughing and sobbing at our fates
To be silent as them, drifting confident,
coursing without abate.
They are as intangible,
They are the ghosts of oceans,
and from them, oceans gush forth
They are the past, the ghosts of the future.
The oceans
are but pale reflections of the heavens,
Often murky, green and putrid.
Yet
With each violent storm
the vision is renewed,
above, as is below
Tread softly upon the waves, ever shifting, foaming, quaking.
Life is as unpredictable as a single drop of rain.
It's path, determined by its birth, the winds predict its course
It's destiny is death, yes death. All destiny is death.
But deaths can form a history, a memory, a world.
An ocean of deaths, of nights and days, of ends, and new beginnings.
it takes an ocean of leaves to build a forest,
an ocean of rivets in an steel-clad ship
An ocean of people to build a people
let us be a people
worth living
Every setting sun is the dawn of a new night,
every night grows old, and they too pass on.
The Sun that dies calls up the dead,
all things are made anew.
The forces above may plan out our course,
we can heed instruction, or pave fates worse
please tread soft upon the dew
Your life is a journey
destination- you
for your future is
as free as falling rain.
Your potential- infinite;
to nourish,
or to drown
Each drop seems nothing
in the vast ocean of life.
Each step, each smile, each voice,
each drop
is a ripple amongst ripple;
A tremor, reshaping the earth.
Be wise, like the twinkling eyes far above,
clouded from us by their beards of mist.
laughing and sobbing at our fates
To be silent as them, drifting confident,
coursing without abate.
They are as intangible,
They are the ghosts of oceans,
and from them, oceans gush forth
They are the past, the ghosts of the future.
The oceans
are but pale reflections of the heavens,
Often murky, green and putrid.
Yet
With each violent storm
the vision is renewed,
above, as is below
Tread softly upon the waves, ever shifting, foaming, quaking.
Life is as unpredictable as a single drop of rain.
It's path, determined by its birth, the winds predict its course
It's destiny is death, yes death. All destiny is death.
But deaths can form a history, a memory, a world.
An ocean of deaths, of nights and days, of ends, and new beginnings.
it takes an ocean of leaves to build a forest,
an ocean of rivets in an steel-clad ship
An ocean of people to build a people
let us be a people
worth living
Every setting sun is the dawn of a new night,
every night grows old, and they too pass on.
The Sun that dies calls up the dead,
all things are made anew.
The forces above may plan out our course,
we can heed instruction, or pave fates worse
please tread soft upon the dew
Your life is a journey
destination- you
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jvenegas
writer, illustrator, dreamer, Catholic, male, bookworm, singer, algebra whiz, gum chewer, scribbler, chef, criminal, financial disaster, amazing
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