Poetry Wrote Over Several Years on Spiritual, Religious, and Devotional Subjects. |
Returning Takes Too Long It takes too long to retrace my steps over the shards of memory, and across the petrified tears of yesterday. It takes too long to follow paths covered with the dust of history, littered with scraps of illusions, and strewn with the bones of vain imaginings. Knowledge cannot be unlearned, and lessons cannot be forgotten; the essence of growth is in the cells of longing, of striving to go beyond the boundaries of dogma, and of struggling to clime the wall of separation between the creature and the Creator. Evolution goes on, as the soul strives the climb out of the well of matter. Returning over paths half-forgotten because I was intent on the struggle, because I was focused on survival and not the surrounding terrain takes too long. It takes too long to find the map thrown by the wayside when I came to the edge of its kingdom. There is a point of no return that once passed becomes a hedge of thorns. It is the journey that is important! The path I traveled was a marriage of fate and choice, of chance and freewill. The end is unseen: it lies beyond a turning in the trail, the crest of a mountain, hidden behind a line of trees, concealed behind a wall or in a cave. The Beloved waits, beyond the point of no return. It takes too long, and is impossible, to return to the beginning: time cannot be shaped that way. Once made the choice, determines the end, and each choice changes the future, while carving the past in stone. To return would change time and myself; it would force me to remake choices already made, and would generate another path... a new future. A future requiring different choices where my present self could not survive. Poet's Note: ▼ |