Wisdom.

When I blossom, basking in the light

We have all been so gracefully provided

Should I, perchance, stop where you stopped

In the interest of keeping you motivated?

If only, because people like me, being anything

Beyond your reach, is unfamiliar, to you

And everyone around you?

 

I ask, not to seek permission

But to help you understand

How ridiculous this all is; seeking refuge

In the comfort of your ignorance

Is not something I would advise you

To take much pride in.

 

Daily, I meditate in a place of my making

I spread my arms at the periphery of the worlds’ end

Where the smallest breeze could push me;

Taking the time to inhale the freshest breath

At the very edge of life and death.

 

Afterwards, I return

With a newfound perspective on reality,

Giving my talent unseen complexities

That can be likened to the most elaborate embroidery.

All that, for poetry? Yes, and at times, a single line,

Sometimes, it is never entirely enough

Excessive? Maybe, so believe me when I say

Feeling intimidated by my prowess

Is entirely your choice to make.

 

I mean this in the nicest way:

If I am not for you, “That is alright”

If you hate me, “I should probably care, but I don’t”

The only service I feel I owe the world

Is being true to myself, not spreading hate;

In this life we live, If you were to ask me

What I find most beautiful, I would tell you that

“No matter how old, or wise we get,

We will never stop learning”

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: Sylar113