Apr 28, 2016

Purpose




The erect tomb stone, purposeful, durable, grey and always the same

The rain always falling downwards and determined, calculated, pounding a moist earth

The tulip always pushing up its beautiful head from beneath the soil every spring

The magnolia tree majestic and generous, reaching its open hand, flower fingered and offering

The poetic clouds that possess a mysterious symmetry despite their fleeting nature

The tender rose, elegant in her gradual death, darkening edges, curling inwards

The moon, self-rationing and self-important   

I envied stability, consistency, reason. I envied things that belong

I don’t know belonging, I don’t know stability, or consistency

Purpose, usefulness and necessity are beyond me.