Sep 8
Once,
a younger man walked
in these shoes.
Making his way
along the path of life.
Carrying with him
a wealth of inspiration
in his soul,
and an insurmountable lust for life
in his heart.
And he held his heart in his hands
and offered it to anyone,
and everyone
who crossed his path.
He had a burning desire
to seek out, find and enjoy
all the treasures
life had to offer.
To travel down every road
to see where it led.
To taste the many flavors
and smell the many scents.
To see the many sights,
and hear the many sounds.
To love,
the love of another,
the love of a child,
the love of a family,
the love of the beauty
he found in all things.
With compassion in his heart
he found truth
in every detail of life.
He cherished
everything and everyone
in all their glorious distinctions.
And all their wondrous details
he took unto his own,
and drew pictures in his mind
with the beautiful thoughts they created.
Eventually learning how
to transfer those images
into words,
he started to write.
His words, descriptions of images
that are a part of his very being.
Flowing from places he’d found
he knew intimately.
Each new thought
creating boundless new images.
Longing to find their place
among the words that poured
from out of his inner most sanctum.
His dreams but visions of places
he had yet to find.
Casual glimpses of beauty
he had yet to see.
No walls stood blocking his view,
no bonds held him.
His mind free from the restraints
of disciplined thought.
He painted his abstract pictures
of words,
pulled from an everlasting flow
of inspiration
that gushed like water from a fountain.
Flowing from the vast pool of images
that filled his mind
in all their splendor.
As he grew in years
the images grew with him.
Becoming clearer
with each passing day.
And his ability to catch them
and transfer them to words,
became the highlight of his life.
And he found himself lost
to all else.
He saw poetry in everything.
Every sight,
every sound,
every person.
Every wonderful image contained
another glorious verse
to the poem, that is his life.
a younger man walked
in these shoes.
Making his way
along the path of life.
Carrying with him
a wealth of inspiration
in his soul,
and an insurmountable lust for life
in his heart.
And he held his heart in his hands
and offered it to anyone,
and everyone
who crossed his path.
He had a burning desire
to seek out, find and enjoy
all the treasures
life had to offer.
To travel down every road
to see where it led.
To taste the many flavors
and smell the many scents.
To see the many sights,
and hear the many sounds.
To love,
the love of another,
the love of a child,
the love of a family,
the love of the beauty
he found in all things.
With compassion in his heart
he found truth
in every detail of life.
He cherished
everything and everyone
in all their glorious distinctions.
And all their wondrous details
he took unto his own,
and drew pictures in his mind
with the beautiful thoughts they created.
Eventually learning how
to transfer those images
into words,
he started to write.
His words, descriptions of images
that are a part of his very being.
Flowing from places he’d found
he knew intimately.
Each new thought
creating boundless new images.
Longing to find their place
among the words that poured
from out of his inner most sanctum.
His dreams but visions of places
he had yet to find.
Casual glimpses of beauty
he had yet to see.
No walls stood blocking his view,
no bonds held him.
His mind free from the restraints
of disciplined thought.
He painted his abstract pictures
of words,
pulled from an everlasting flow
of inspiration
that gushed like water from a fountain.
Flowing from the vast pool of images
that filled his mind
in all their splendor.
As he grew in years
the images grew with him.
Becoming clearer
with each passing day.
And his ability to catch them
and transfer them to words,
became the highlight of his life.
And he found himself lost
to all else.
He saw poetry in everything.
Every sight,
every sound,
every person.
Every wonderful image contained
another glorious verse
to the poem, that is his life.
