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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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Crying Out

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

First written in 2009, this personification, like time, has continued to follow its shadow. Applying a few new words, I was reminded once again that as a species we think we know a lot, yet as a whole, still insist on approaching the unknown with fear.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Crying Out

It is only an instant
our time and space
mere footsteps floating above the sand
beneath the blink of eternity's cosmic pulse

Interval's shadow
these tiny grains of past and present
the oneness of light and dark
the singularity of nature
patiently searches
picks carefully
and then shares
ethereal resonance

For some
once planted
this sudden silhouette
seems safely at rest

For others
firm footing is never realized

For most
careless stumbling
becomes habit's empty comfort

Nevertheless

The journey of all that is
continues its everyday migration
across and through the erosion of time
sometimes seen
sometimes heard
occasionally
felt

How patient and precious this enigma

Knowing

Waiting

Aware with nurturing caution
existence itself
might some day
need to cry out



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Reviewed by Kate Burnside
Reviewed on April 22, 2012
For me, Odin, these lines concentrate the fly-wheel of your thoughts here, like how the hub is centrifugal to the spokes; a kind of "Big Bang" effect -

For most
careless stumbling
becomes habit's empty comfort

To allow oneself to stumble takes away from the need to decide where to place a foot... Provoking and insightful work as always, Odin. xx


Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on April 22, 2012
I admire your way of expressing what I have always known. Most of us are so self-centered that we cannot see the picture beyond ourselves, our family, our work, our country. It is a very small perception indeed. As Thoreau so eloquently wrote, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.”

I am grateful to be living and I'm living every minute of it. I know I will die sometime and I don't worry about how and when.

Ron

Reviewed by John Flanagan
Reviewed on April 21, 2012
the big picture and the lilliputian
view, Odin; i don't have much respect left
for us as a species for we could do so much
better but choose not to - Aquinas, and i'm not
in general
a 'fan' of his, did say it well when he said
'love is in the will' and in a way, but only
in a way, it consoles me that we will pass to
extinction and when we do the planet will be better
for our leaving

john

Reviewed on April 20, 2012
existence is constantly crying, few, listen, it's comfortable to not fear,morgan

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Reviewed on April 20, 2012
Oh, I agree with Diana on her quote.

The Homo sapiens of this planet, as far as I am aware, are the only living thing who dare question its existence. We have been doing this at least as long as there were drawings on caves which evolved into the written word. Because of the different brain patterns we have come up with many, many theories concerning our origin. This, then, is an excellent example of that search, although it's primarily purpose is to delve into the "thinking" rather than the origin, but to me they both go hand-to-hand.

Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
Reviewed on April 20, 2012
Well, this piece is both huge and tiny. Huge in scope and overseeing, as one purviewing a planet from a distance, and tiny as an ant on the sidewalk. Both at once. I find an ambiance of calmness herein, as though it were written by one who knows something for sure; "How patient and precious this enigma." "nurturing caution".

Astute is this: "For most/careless stumbling/becomes habit's empty comfort." I'm flattened by the acuity of that line. ~~ Diana


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