Memories melt
and trickle like rain
down the side of mountains
erected in my past.

Monuments of glory
meant to always stand
against winds of change
and tears of sorrow.

To live a life
of unfilled desire
is like black night
with no redemption

by cleansing sunrise
to wash away death.
I lift my pen and
let the words flow

from the deep
recesses of my soul.
Pouring out on paper
giving thought a life.

Such is the spur
that goads my side
lifting me out
into the light.

Much older now
and wiser still,
I eagerly grasp
the brand new day.

A harsh resolve
with stronger will,
now able to shun
the shallow way.

This then is peace
as it comes
hiding behind a mask
of terror and lies

won by clawing
at blackened soul
and festering past
of one’s own self.

A shadow of faith
has come over me
to beg at vision
like motes in light.

It speaks such promise
as never heard.
Torn and bloodied
now I rest.

© 2000-2013 Stephen Boothe

This is another poem that I recently reworked. I felt I had more to say about the stripping away of self to find one’s own inner being.


About txyogi

Sixty plus year old Network engineer, father, grandfather, webmaster, graphic designer, guitar/bass player, yogi from Texas. View all posts by txyogi

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