Recognition

 Recognition
  
 So easily we are sucked in
 To rhythm, to culture, to doing
 Again and again we try to escape
 Those dreaded thoughts I should
 It peers, leers from around the hall corner
 Of our calm, beige alcoves
 And lures us in as dreams, discovery
 Snaking around our ankles
 Until it catches hold
 Dragging us unknowingly to the depths
 Of holes we never quite escape
 Just when our chins reach the rim
 And purity begins its rise
 We let go of our reclaiming
 The depth of who we really are
 In exchange for ambition, adoration
 Short-lived achievements and the next
 The next, what’s next, yes it’s always next
 For what are we if not our doings
 Are we anything but a wisp, a breeze
 An unfilled chalice
  
 I become as smooth as water
 As I gaze into the waving reflection
 The continuity of rolling liquid
 Explains the repetitive nothingness existing
 So frighteningly inside us
 A vast vase holding who knows what for what reason
 Except for those who can break away from the serpent of season
 Conquer the self and end the circle of want and challenge
 And enter the peace of it’s done, everlasting satisfaction
 The soul need not be searched
 It’s already fully present
 Waiting for the moment of complete solace
 Recognizing that being known is not making renowned a name 
 Or being drawn to destiny
 It’s about the unborn waiting for its first breath
 And the death of desire to be anything but breath itself 

By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021
Jan. 22, 2021

[Photo above: "Riding Reflection," By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021]

2 Comments

  1. “It’s about the unborn waiting for its first breath
    And the death of desire to be anything but breath itself”

    These last sentences are quite powerful. Thank you for sharing this poem.

    Like

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