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Posts Tagged ‘meaning of life”>’

mMCEE8c

The world is as restless as the sea;
I stand, while it is swayed.
The winds and the clouds go whistling by –
A briskly marched parade.

Wind fondles the leaves in ev’ry tree;
It rustles grass like hair;
It touches me and I am not moved;
I’ve not gone anywhere.

The chimes too, are tickled by the wind
And move to get away.  
But wind works them like the ivories
That men sit down to play.

The wind moves by, caressing the grass,
And makes green churning waves
That ripple across the lea as the wind
Says goodbye to its slaves.  

It is a most restless world today;
Men’s feet cannot be still.
And the leaves and grass and swaying limbs
All dance the same quadrille.

The smallest of creatures, e’en the ants
Who run a settled route –
A searching for food and home again –
Know what they’re all about.

But men on an artery don’t know;
They haul their lives behind.
They cross in their moves from east to west
To find what fate’s designed.

Feet restless and minds quite restless, too
Leave city, job, and mate
For something that has more zest and spice,
More tasty on life’s plate.

If there’s a solution, most reject
As though a bitter taste.
And temporary won’t satisfy
So all becomes a waste.

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photo by Adrian van Leen at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mMCEE8c/sepia+palm+tree+silhouette

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Time runs out
And most live like fools –
Unaware

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photo by Miriam Wickett at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nHZDND0/timer

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.
 

 

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A small cross by the busy road, above a tiny mound –
It seems an extra daisy to the travelers homeward bound
Who speed their ways to destinies without a second thought,
Of just another cup of sorrow that the journey brought –
…….Just a mother’s broken heart.

It lies beneath the ocean like a corpse beneath the sheets –
A sunken, sullen hull that not a sailor ever greets.
Its captain was not called by either king or queen to court;
Just another ship that sailed that did not reach its port –
…….Just a dreamer’s broken heart.

We miss the mark of moodiness within his distant look,
And in the sigh that wishes for the time two lovers took
To hold each other tenderly within a blissful swoon.
But now he’s just a darkened sky that never holds a moon –
…….Just another broken heart.

The love that has been offered like a hand stretched out to shake
On a hill that’s not remembered in daily trips we take,
Was fastened by the nails of Rome amid the quaking gloom.
He’s just another casualty for which we’ve scarcely room –
…….Just the Father’s broken heart.

If at the end of life, or even at the close of day,
I find, reflecting, that my time was simply passed in play,
Or small pursuits, or habits harmful in their thoughtlessness,
Then I become, in selling my life’s universe for less –
…….Just another broken heart.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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