If Walls Could Talk

A few weeks ago, I blogged that crossing a bridge offers a unique opportunity to embrace uplifting choice possibilities in the present moment as one transitions from past to future. In the following poem, I thus imagine that if a wall could speak, they might feel a similar need for self enlightening transformation.

Beyond “no man’s” rim, they arrive in desperate squalid

As my concrete slab taunts them in stoic solid

Such illusions of safety but never to heal

For my divisive view of life orders oppressive ordeal

In these zones of split mind, there’s a sickening distrust

In lost chances to engage binding unity’s thrust

When my cold barriers severs “breakaway” hopes in new land

What sense do I serve then, when so many I strand?

Without bricks, berms, nor wire, my walls no longer take side

For in a borderless country, I’ve got nothing to hide

Who comes through my portals, that no one can see.

True gatherings of oneness, who have no reason to flee

As friendless walls crumble in this world full of hate

It’s never in doubt that freedom’s reign spells my ultimate fate

Post Script:

Reflecting further on walls encountered in our world travels I present the following photographic display as a reminder of the critical need to embrace  global unity today. 



Pacific Coastline Dreaminess

“To the shore Follow! Oh, follow! To be at rest forevermore!” (James Russell Lowell)

In our three weeks traveling south along route 1 in coastal California on the midpoint “leg”of our 2019 road trip, I’ve covered in three previous blogs the highlights of our featured beachside destinations. In the following poem I’ve composed with accompanying photographs, I now present a concluding tribute to a region that has again filled my heart and mind with lasting images of meditative goodness as a result of this unforgettable travel experience. Namaste.

In Pacific Coast landscape my heart longs for more, as there’s will to seek solace along desolate shore. As west winds flow so freely like trains from the sky, pay heed to young surfer for his wave lifting high. With eons of stones perhaps I’ll strike gold, yet just one tiny pebble can trigger my life changing mold. Let’s trod a path down cliff steeply to find pure nature’s thrill, and caress unspoiled beach in spite of dusk chill. These dizzying curves that I drive mindfully in motion, strike firm will to return, thus fullfilling my west coast emotion.







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