(0.00 / 0 votes) “
I walk in a solitary fashion along a shallow sandbank,
my world lost within my mind.
Footprints upon grainy sand acquaint my soul with body –
a warning of a craving for unity, an ambitious passion for congruity.
A way of living in a world which prompts untruths from human spirit I must find -
untruths lost in a dark abyss of mislaid faith and split passion.
My soul is hungry… it scans a vivid horizon thirsty for an opportunity
to banish apathy which, thus far has thrown my soul into chaos – cataclysmically.
Agonising notions grip my mind’s matrix,
promoting annihilation of subconscious actuality.
Producing confusion… isolation – focus lost… thoughts fraught with division.
Forging along I am an automaton, this idiosyncratic turmoil I must quash –
An invasion of sounds crash in, manufacturing a hiatus from my
torturous condition producing an intrusion to my pursuit -
to my fantasising mood and disposition.
All thought lost as sounds of crunching sand mix with birds squawking, shallow sandbar's rushing and gushing, childish cackling and wind whistling, young and old laughing, crows crowing, and a far away sound of a Salvation Army Band.
An unusual concoction, trying to form music and song –
a quizzical, comical composition.
Worst of all is how wind and sand in malicious union
doth my body assault and rip; an impact violating - off balancing.
My walk now, a nightmarish trip.
Ironically, wind and sound signal my mind to know
I'm not an island; it proclaims a fashion of a prior known quantity –
that I'm truly a part of all that is around.
In succumbing to that which my surroundings impart,
I grasp unity… adopt fusion.
For unity is found in grasping – in moving across a chasm –
through an abyss unmindful of assumption –
unmindful of cryptic notions that portray division.
Wild surf paints forms upon a coastal strip,
as if to hug pallid sand - fluid full of colour, land to kiss.
I savour its rush of rich liquid, as it darts towards my limbs
washing sorrow away imparts joy and bliss.
Harmony, so luxurious flows from my spirit –
spirit aglow, division nought.
Unity brings rhythm to my gait, to my faith to my truth assiduously sought.
Whilst chaos abounds in a combination of inorganic and organic intrusions –
it forms a fusion – a fusion of unity within my souls fabric –
and I am found.
Discuss this deborah k Bates poem with the community:
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)