For the powerful… Continue reading
Writer, poet, possessor of 2 cents, blogger, recovering corporate animal and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will only get in the way.
of the puzzle –
rather than tendering prayers
to be made “whole”
as God’s grace
can’t be supported by
Copyright © 2016 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved
winds of life
an acrid stench
opportunities lost –
cut like swords
like a Bastille.
Someone said –
I’m having a horrible life…
for staying the course –
the silence was deafening.
Being enamored of the view from above is a double edged sword, but I can’t let the beauty of the vantage point, work in concert with fear to immobilize and prevent me from making the foray into the valley, where the treasures are stored.
My passions are clustered closely together, sharing the commonality of creation.
Whether it is my excursions into the depths of nature, earnestly searching for the face of God, but being content with hearing his heartbeat.
Or my cobbling together of words in an effort to make sense of my place, my role on this planet.
Being ensconced in the kitchen, marrying flavors and textures to fortify the body is an ethereal feeling all of its own.
Writing is not unlike Cooking.
As both are art forms, in that something is being created for human consumption with the hope and expectation that it will nurture those who partake of what has been prepared.
Is it foolhardy to consider the Almighty as such…
A writer, cook, narrator… Creator?
What God has rendered is intended for human consumption, is it not?
I’m probably overreaching, I digress.
As for me consistent inconsistency should be heralded, applauded and embraced, it keeps me nimble.
Human beings are fickle and the pedestals we place them on are often of shoddy quality as the materials that we use, are often comprised of our expectations.
I use to despair of the travails of life, until I realized I was being seasoned for bigger things, a plateau I have yet to procure. My shouts often echo back with concussive force, bringing me to my knees.
I have had members of my family, linked by the immutable bond of DNA stand inches away, showering me with a look of disdain that morphed into a blank stare of dismissal.
In the same breath there are people who I have come of age with. Who I have cried, conquered and walked through proverbial valleys over the course of decades, in some cases spanning my entire life, summarily cut me off for reasons that are unclear.
As well as those who held the title of friend only to dismiss my entreaties as unworthy of their time and energy.
These instances, these individuals… Have proven to be the harshest, but most effective teachers I could ever hope to have and I cherish them.
I harbor no animus towards them, but when procurement time comes, that time that the Almighty deems for me to unwrap my “gift” that my humility has built the foundation for over the course of years.
I know that I will see these teachers, I will hear their accolades, their proclamations of pride and the like, but all that I will be able to bestow upon them is what they’ve given me.
I will look pass them…
Towards those who have shown me the power of their words through their actions, being true to me through every storm that I have weathered. Showing me what the unassailable definition of friendship and camaraderie
looks like has been my saving grace.
Because they have unselfishly loaned me their power. I am duty bound to pull them closer into my orbit.
Our foundations are often shaken as testament and reminder that we have no control other than the adoration we tender to whom that “control” emits.
I will not cry out in agony, instead I will cry out to the Almighty.
Creator, Father, Mother, Divine Omnipotence, Lord.
Not for an escape, but for a stronger back, not lighter burdens.
Copyright © 2015 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved