Friday, 21 August 2015

Visions of the Mind


Sometimes, we do our best, and yet it never seems to be enough for some people while others simply take our efforts for granted.

Yes, it hurts when all we seek is a little encouragement, and all we seem to have to show for it is grains of sand.

It is so often the case that people do not mean to cause hurt, yet fail to see their comments as a parody of their finer feelings towards us.

We all need to think before we speak sometimes, learn to acknowledge and trust our better instincts, formulate our ideas with care instead of (all too often) falling prey to so-called 'public opinion'.

Easier said than done, though, this refusing to either rush to judgement on others or let ourselves fall victim to those rushing to judgement on us.

Whatever, praise is no endgame in itself but a by-product of succeeding - as far as anyone can - in finding and being true to ourselves. Moreover, I suspect Nietzsche makes a valid point: “So long as men praise you, you can only be sure that you are not yet on your own true path but on someone else's.”  ― Friedrich Nietzsche

VISIONS OF THE MIND

Alone on a beach
among restless white ponies
panting heavily,
rearing at me for they know
a storm is coming,
although not yet a while;
time yet to let me see
the Old Man smile as I drop stars
through tearful fingers
relentlessly measuring out
the rest of my life

Air hot and stale
like the stillness of a coffin,
funeral prayers
long since dead and gone,
tossed to playful waves
as we’d throw a much loved dog
a bone and watch it run,
tail wagging, anxiously homing in
on its reward
for whatever, only ever needing
to deserve praise

No bones here,
only flailing limbs of ghosts
in dark water
striving for landfall, but sure
of nothing,
like flotsam and jetsam taking turns
to see which will
fall into loving hands anxious
to shape an art form
if for no other reason than needing
to deserve praise

What to do?
Needs must…choose well
or wait for a stampede
to render me less than hoof prints
in the sand,
all human potential left
to natural erosion
unknowingly hastened by fishers
of men rushing to judgement
if for no other reason than needing
to deserve praise

Nothing for me here,
but rage and pain in a pool of stars
at my feet,
urging me to leap feisty pony,
let it take me where it will,
escape not only storm but wreckage
as sure to follow as day
follows night and tides of humanity,
the course its nature sets us
if for no other reason than failing
to deserve praise

Yet, treasures to be had,
sparkling views of sea, sky and sand
filing the inner eye
with memories of (far) kinder times
filled with faith in dreams
nurturing mind, body and spirit
no matter where the spotlight
on everyday lives may choose to fall,
urging that we follow the course
nature sets us if for no other reason
than deserving praise


Copyright R. N. Taber 201; 2015

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