A Father's Advice

A sparse stand of grain
is left in life to reap a bounty of wisdom from
The sowers that have come before
have left few fields and the golden heads are fewer yet
But in the last acreage
that memory has visited with an empty stomach
There is a small ripe patch,
which offers the gleaner promise
In applying sickle to straw
it is understood that all is not lost
when going over the edge
the sower advised many years ago
to be fully aware
when going over the edge
for there is no point to hide
when going over the edge
In the end there are two conclusions
in a trip over the edge
Either one finds an ultimate end
to a physical life
or one survives
In both cases, the sower told that
when going over the edge
one must keep their eyes wide open
and enjoy the journey to either end
For when going over the edge
it is an extraordinary experience
and one can either be imprisoned by fear
or completely liberated by it
As gravity soon recalls those
when they go over the edge
it is in that moment that one can revel
and take in the rare occurrence
And if the journey is survived
a tremendous story can later be told
and if the journey meets a final end
those last moments can be spent
in pleasure rather than in pain

One night...

When we are awakened by loved ones 

who have already made their earthly beds,

moments are created where cranial sutures swell at their seams

and unnoticed pulses race 

amidst the stage-stealing lack of breath.

Those times are only sought

when search is surrendered

and heavy hearts melt in pouring disappointments.

When those loved ones pull on toes 

hanging out from the covers,

to give rise to verses and brief moments of debating,

"Was that, or wasn't it?  

Did it, or didn't it?"

Only then is the bridge gapped 

to where one knows,

and sees life is well beyond the blanketed bed.

Curiosity

Circumnavigation is the rule of the game
for all succumb to the circle, eventually.
Some fly, some crawl,
others crawl only to fly,
but all are making their rounds this time.
And other times will ebb and flow
in the near infinite plain we all walk.
It is what's beyond this plain,
the great unknown,
that we not only ponder, but often
argue about and destroy others
while defending precious hypotheses.
This curiosity affects all,
from drifting rocks on arid plains,
to lightning strikes and hurricanes,
to the obvious scholar behind a book,
to the more obscure babbling brook.
From the delicate airborne fruits,
to the ravenous and thirsty tree roots,
to cats that can't seem to help themselves,
to all the unread words kept on dusty shelves.
Knowledge is a vibrant word
that is the sweet nectar to our wavering minds.
Wholly satisfying is it when new,
greatly taken for granted when old,
and always forgotten to only become
ever-satisfying once again.
Though some have seemed to have had their fill,
others desperately seek it, sacrificing their own will.
It tortures many, eludes quite a few,
and transforms only those who allow it.
Regardless of this, it beckons to all,
serving as its own gravitational call
on all energy throughout this plain of existence.