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Odin odin@aflx.com

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Books
· Perceptions

· ECHOSIS

· Prosetry at Work

· Said and Unsaid - Vol 1

· 3 WAY MIRROR


Short Stories
· Patience Waning

· Ladle Lines (A prosetry memory)

· A Gentle Man

· Pacing Love's Journey

· Gratitude

· A Sticky Conversation

· Blazing Now and Then

· Vulnerable Captivity

· The Kite That Would Not Bow

· Time


Articles
· War and Peace

· Desperation Breeds Desperation

· Preference Manifest

· Innocent Guilt

· Barbed Isolation

· A Place...

· Sanity's Loss

· Organs Anonymous

· Fatuous Beyond Absurdity

· Truth is One


Poetry
· The Life-long Pernicious Evil

· Cherishing Sounds of Silence

· Understanding the Unexplainable

· Reality of Another Kind

· Finding Trust Again

· Aromalicious Memories

· A Jungle-rain Pastorale

· Sediment Within the Soul

· Life's Enormous Green Chest

· Roadkill Memoriam

         More poetry...

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Existential Inertia

by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com

A prosetry exploration into the nature of matter, begs the question: Might all ends be but preparations for beginnings? Those believing in “the ‘existential inertia’ thesis hold that, once in existence, the natural world tends to remain in existence without need of a divine conserving cause.” Edward Feser. -

Sunday, July 14, 2019


Poem Artwork

 

Existential Inertia

 

Peering back at the shadow stretching,
Continuance knows well the peaceful silhouettes from horizon's light,
Ancestral sequence having frequented this shore many times.

 

All is as it has been on so many such occasions,
Sequestered driftwood blanketed by sand,
Isolated fingers protruding in protest,
Unready to move on,
Just yet.

 

Sand pipers scavenging wet bubbles along the beach,
Furtively run zigs and zags,
Avoiding swooping wings overhead,
A termination they too are not ready to embrace,
Just yet.

 

All is as it has been,
Even the familiar rumble of distant truck engines off shore,
Downshifting for the long pull over the hill,
Carrying essential goods of all kinds,
Sustainment of another kind,
People not at the end,
Just yet.

 

Destiny laps the shore,
Its gentle hands tugging Nature's ancient endurance
Into warm waters, even as this once mighty limbed-strength,
Whose resistance to wind and temperatures,
Drifts ready again for the next beginning.

 

Ahead…

 

The roots have withered
Growth's ever-changing leaves and bark
Have become enjoined morsels of Nature's love and care
Whispers from the past
Mixing peacefully
As ghostly remnants. 

 

White caps thunder applause,
As the elongated shade of remaining branches
Prepares to fade into the day's dusk and disappearance,
Signaling a tide ready to lift and carry time forth and beyond.

 

The water rises.
The fiber and strands of resistance

Soften to dissolve into a new connection
As birth's salt and brine prepare the next iteration.


A final surge upward.
A lift of wave and purpose.
Exploding its renewed power
Into a mist imploring remembrance
Placed before the oneness of perpetuity.


Matter’s cycle begins anew into the unchartered horizon.

 

So begins another never-ending completion.
The drifting of a tree we might meet again

Beneath another shore's migrating sands,
Readying further preparation for unfolding the essence
Of yet another form to be discovered. 

 

Such is the gift of time,
The requisite condition for existential inertia,
Where existence once created,
Evolves unbound in perpetuity.

 



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Reviewed on July 17, 2019
Your picturesque and fantastic poem is so moving, Odin! "perpetuity" is key. "White caps thunder applause,"!!! I can just see that and hear it! I got a chill, hon! Super!

Love ya!

Jane

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on July 15, 2019
You think that atoms created in exploding stars make up a good portion of that driftwood whose roots are forever buried in the sand time to eventually after patient long waiting, someday perhaps, becoming part of another tree in due time.

Nature is not only the best landscaper, but the best garbageman you'll ever have.

Ron


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