When Time Stands Still
Is not the sun the splendor of the sky,
Shimmering above and giving to all alive?
Does not the wind whisper quietly to you,
The Earth breathes deeply just as all also do?
Is a rose merely a flower and stem of thorns,
Or an embodiment of love: hopeful and forlorn,
What do you see in the splendor of existence?
Is it black and white, if so I ask for forgiveness.
To me the world is every color, ending with only two,
Yet that is only what we see and of so many we see so few,
Life's breadth and depth is so much past the surface,
If that were not so all expressions would be worthless.
If that were true then this would be but zeroes and ones,
Such would be to say that the whole is the same as the sum,
When taken together the total of existence will always exceed,
Is the same as saying wishes only come true if you truly believe.
A Time When...
There are the moon and stars then there is you,
I dream many dreams but most about what to do,
I have learned many things but I still don't understand,
How to do this thing that my heart so demands.
Through all the challenges and the strife,
I have been through my life,
There are many things I should have said and done,
All of which are meaningless except this one.
To be freed of these shackles and my struggle,
To see the walls turned from stone to rubble,
Oh what troubles that will come and go,
But it is this which I have come to know.
It is our passion that makes us unique,
And our love that makes us complete,
There is nothing stronger in all existence,
This is what unites us and makes the difference.
(Varying Degrees of Success) Why I Try to Be Humble… Best I Can
I think about myself, my image, my goals and place,
I often wonder how I seemingly keep pace,
In the race of life only the mad willingly finish first,
Else the goal is to be last and quietly content with your work.
If there is none after then all a life will ever be,
Is the perception stored in someone else's memory,
Thus I wonder what would one ever want from me,
Aside my love with a mind for quality over quantity.
I chuckle at the thought, my mind gives me issues,
Though nowhere near the worst I've been through,
Simply put I don't believe in being a stuck up cynic,
But it's tough to be polite when it seems like everybody's a critic.
I may muse and I may laze, be it malaise or sloth,
I believe the fates for me weave a different cloth,
And woven within the fabric made of my mortal life,
For me should be a golden thread if so should be seen my life.
Author's Note: Best I can tell I'm always gonna be different: always have been, always will be. Not to say that's a bad thing but it certainly has proven to be challenging at times. every day at the least a bit better than the last.
I have written hundreds of poems. Hopefully some will be in Japanese soon.
