I’m afraid of it
this place
with so much discontent
our lives
wrapped in a purpose
yet the soft touch of beauty
when held alone,
away from our heart
gives strenth
to an irrational
option.
There is no singular reason
to imagine that compassion
only lends to individual
memory.
Yet there is,
if you think about it,
a truth to feeling loved.
When love is lost both outside
and inside our realm
of quiet existence,
it might be difficult to imagine
anything else
really will matter.
I remember one time,
walking along the shoreline,
icy depths,
I imagined
the length of time,
wading into the pool of our
natural purpose.
There is every night,
I think about that place,
if I leave here
so many memories,
so many eyes,
I’m grateful for the beauty
knowing we can be ‘great.’
in the short hours of our
quiet release of emotion.
I stood nearby the final release of
carbon
would no longer interfere
with that ozone layer
we all worried about in the 60’s.
another six decades later,
it is like I am sitting on that little hill
with the gravel path
led me to my solace.
Nothing had changed, my life,
a constant battle
trying to recognize
beauty rather than desecration.
When we fail, we might choose to prevail.
© Scott F Savage 3/2020
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