Author Information
I COULD BE NO OTHER
I am alone in a sea of people.
A “lone wolf”
traveling on a solitary road,
trying to avail myself of the things of the flesh.
Materialism only serves to enslave it’s owners,
forcing it’s stewarts to forget the real important things.
I stand before you,
yet you refuse to see me.
I speak,
but only the silent wind is listening.
We have been friends for so long,
but I am still invisible.
I open a small window to my soul,
but you walk around it.
I peel off my protective skin
revealing myself
naked as the crying wind,
but you fail to understand me.
I give you a taste of my secret thoughts,
but you do not hear me.
You recall my life in every detail,
yet you fail to grasp my essence;
you know of me,
but you do not know me.
I share myself,
but you refuse my gifts.
Ourselves,
are waiting for the opportunity to share
follows in our shadow
down the twisting road of life’s journey.
We cannot outrun it,
it will always overtake us at every chance.
Our fate is assured,
the dichotomic duality
between our real,
and imaginary self is inevitable.
the paradoxical life
we call living,
is necessary to guarantee our humanity.
Wrapping ourselves with beautiful borrowed flesh,
the gorgeous dark skin hiding our souls
is purely incidental.
Would the contents of a package diminish
if the wrapper was different?
Can a container overtake
the importance of it’s contents?
The artificial construction we live in,
forced upon ourselves
by self imposed constraints,
binds us to the confines of a personal reality;
a pre manufactured mold
denying our full potential at vitality.
The essence of life is in ones perception,
for perception is transformed into reality.
Do we all see the same Sun?
But one must believe!
We need Biblical faith!
God spoke,
and her words became flesh.
the beautiful containers which one endeavor to build,
is only a pretty dress
to wrap far more important
parts of one’s self.
The flesh which imprison our spark,
the beautiful dark skin wrapping our essence,
is purely incidental.
We are
who we are,
and could be no other.
The me
from the real self
always presence itself;
no matter what wrapper
the precious package comes in.
One cannot deny one’s self,
for the reflection of our being in the mirror of life
stare us down like an omnipresent overlord
Leegal Poet
Wayne Ferron . All rights reserved @ copyright
