A Reflection on Stagnation and Self-Revival. This is a little poem I wrote to express where I am at nowadays.
In a world constantly in flux, feeling stagnant can be a disheartening experience. This poem explores the haunting sensation of being untouched by life’s changes, and the longing for a spark that can reignite the spirit. It delves into the search for external saviors and the realization that the true cure lies within oneself. Join me as we explore the journey from stagnation to self-discovery, and the power of lifting one’s own burden to find renewal.
The winds of change flow by –
Ever swift and ruthless.
Ruffling not a hair off my brow,
Not a thread off my skirt.
Neither my heart nor my head;
Are moved or changed.
A heart that has not healed or bled,
A mind that is knife sharp, at rest.
Crystal tears – that do not fall
Smiles that repose in corners of lips
They wait for a signal to lift
A soul that sleeps
Awaiting ignition.
Stagnation is the name
Of this grave disease
Neither riches, love nor fame
Doth this stagnant creature claim.
“Pull me out!” I cry.
To whom shall I beseech,
The daring rescue,
A mortal charge unto the breech?
Where are the knights,
The dashing, chivalrous heros?
Is there a healer,
A physician, priest, shaman, or witch
Skilled enough to fix
This ailment with a trick?
Nay, fool.
Only one has the cure
For this deadly pestilence.
Search thee,
Thy heart, thy mind, thy spirit,
Lift with both hands,
The burden, and carry on.
Leave a Reply