The Long Road

I’ve had a lot of free time lately because of being off work for all the holidays. So I figured I would try and do something productive with my time and did a little bit of writing. I hope you enjoy.

The Long Road:

A million, maybe more.
I don’t know if I could ever count the number of footsteps that have brought me to where I am.
I know I will never be able to remember them all, and I’m not sure if I will ever want to.
Most of them are probably best forgotten anyways.
Yet, even though I’ve not taken half of my steps down the road, each is already starting to feel a bit heavier than the last.
Maybe that’s why I keep finding myself glancing back towards beginning.
Remembering when each step felt so light and was taken in such a free and impetuous way.
But, I can’t keep looking back and trying to remember what has gone by.
While I may now walk this road alone and without care it may not be that way forever.
There may be a day when my feet are joined by pairs of smaller feet whom I have to lead safely down the road until they can lead themselves.
So even though it’s tempting I can’t keep looking back.
I can’t keep enjoying the landmarks along the road in hindsight like still images that will eventually fade into the distance.
I need to look down the road.
Because if I don’t focus and I keep trying to look back, I won’t ever know if whats coming, will be better than whats already come.

 

Fighting the Tide

Let me say this,the Peace Corps is an absolutely amazing experience that I am enormously grateful to be able to have. Though like anything in life it has it’s ups and downs. At times things aren’t easy, whether I am having to adapt to a new culture or struggle communicating with someone because of a language barrier, I have moments of frustration. From talking to some other volunteers I am sensing this is a common theme, no matter how strong, smart, or determined the volunteer is. There can be times when we feel like we have no connection and are struggling against some invisible force which is weighing down on us. I am not speaking for the feelings of all volunteers, only those who have told me they have the same downs. I wrote this poem to express and hopefully illustrate for those back home how, even though Peace Corps is an experience that many of us love and cherish, that it can at times be challenging.

 

Fighting the tide:

I’m cold, wet, constantly being pushed back.
The tide feels infinite and un-relenting.
It’s not rushing it’s not surging, yet it seems impossibly powerful.
I feel every muscle in my body straining, burning from the exertion.
I’m exhausted, I’m overtired, my body and mind are weary.
The tide feels impossible to match, impossible to overcome.
For as long as I can remember the tide has been pressing, imposing, urging it’s direction.
I’m anxious, I’m unsure, yet I’m determined.
The tide makes it impossible to see anything but the itself.
There is nothing in front of me, only the seeming unendingness of the tide as it melts into the horizon.
I don’t know why I keep fighting, I don’t know why I keep struggling against it.
I can’t figure out why I’m so afraid to let it guide me, I can’t figure out why I’m so nervous about it’s end.
I’ve been forever laboring against it and I don’t think I can anymore.
I feel my heart slowing, my breath easing, and my eyes truly seeing for the first time.
I feel weightless in the tide as it carries me with it.
I don’t know the tide’s path, I don’t know how long it will carry me.
I will never know the rhyme or the reason of the tide, I will never know it’s destination.
Though I know now to open my eyes and enjoy the sights of the journey upon which I am being carried.
 

I Stand

Life is a busy street.

A street alive with a rushing torrent of passersby seeking unknown destinations.

I stand alone, I stand still, I stand unmoving in the middle of the rush.

I feel isolated from the tumult.

I can feel the pulse of the world around me as it creeps forward, second by second, minute by minute.

Amongst the din I can hear snippets of conversation and catch errant bits of laughter from the figures moving around me.

On the moving faces I can see smiles, I see tears, I see smiles accompanied by tears and I want so much to be able to stick out my hand and be caught. To be drug into the rushing tide.

I turn and look and try to catch the eyes of someone, of anyone, around me. I don’t know where anyone is going but I want to go with them.

Yet my feet don’t know which way to take me.

So I stand still, I stand alone.

The Future

Because my departure date for my Peace Corps service is getting closer by the day, I’ve been thinking more about my future and what it holds.

The Future:

With each dawn a new chance to do,

With each dawn a new chance to see.

With every day a new occasion to look at you,

With every day a new occasion to look at me.

Each sunset with the possibility to be better than the last,

Each sunset with the possibility to be my last.

Each tomorrow a way to forget the past,

Each tomorrow a way to make memories that will last.

Unknown, mysterious, and enticing; the future lies before me like an unending horizon.

Beautifully blank, the future is just another page in the book of life to leave my mark on.

Want

Another shot at some short poetry. Again it’s a very rough attempt that I wrote in a few minutes.

Want:

We want that which we don’t have.

Though we can never have what we want.

We want for the feelings of emptiness inside of ourselves.

We want because our souls and our hearts feel incomplete.

To want is a fruitless endeavor because to want is to believe the soul can be healed by the addition of man-made baubles.

To truly want does not exist.

Rather true want is to need.

To need another that can calm our searching souls and beating hearts and to offer us a life full of timeless moments in which the man made world and it’s things are overshadowed by a united spirit.

Love Is

Usually when I post, it isn’t much more than some random pictures I had taken at some point in my life. Though, tonight after re-reading one of my favorite books “The Prophet” by Khalil Gibran and listening to “Love Is” by Common, I decided to try my hand at some poetry. It is rough and most likely terrible ,but is an expression of what was crossing my mind earlier tonight when I was thinking about why it seems people try and define something that is different for everyone and can be found in the smallest and most random actions.

Love Is:

Love is the Paramount of want, yet the epitome of need.

Love is closer than a caught breath, yet further than a fading star.

Love is destroyer of bonds, yet the creator of coupled hearts.

Love is definition, yet something undefinable.

Love is denied, yet is undeniable.

Love is what stops our hearts, yet moves our souls.

Love is as little as a hair brushed aside, yet as grand as a sea traversed.

Love is so often sought, yet something when sought is never found.