Poetry Diary ) Sent into the Unknown . . . Pitched Headlong into a Camellia Bush

The Ragged Writings of Everland

 (New Poem, below...)

POETRY DIARY:  We write. We put away what we’ve written on ‘the shelf:’ held for better or for worse in our manuscript; and wherever we’ve put that. Then we go back to it, sometime later, and read what we then wrote... and, always, without fail, we see further... and quickly edit our former treasures. What was once our, all becomes as something incomplete and behind us which we have grown through and gone beyond.  

   We always tend to grieve when we look back at what we’ve written. What was once a delight to us has tarnished in our eyes. And this happens to all of us, regardless; and we become disillusioned. We think we’ll never ‘get there.’ But, I’ve come to see that that is not a ‘bad’ thing. It just proves we are alive! It means we actually are, internally living creatures! Growing! Moving forwards and upwards on the inside!  

   Through even the faintest nuance of experience since last we wrote - even if it were only yesterday - we have exceeded yesterday’s insight. And we should rejoice over that! Not grieve that we didn’t ‘get it’ all! For if we had, if we had got it all, yesterday, then we’d be ‘dead:’ for we had gone no further in today!  

   So, now we can turn all that around, and be truly glad for yesterday’s least shortcomings, for joy over, seeing and knowing more today. Yes! We are alive! And tomorrow, guess what, we’ll be even better!

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THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND: VOLUME THREE:  ARKIAHH DREAMING:  VOL.3/ 2.)

2. Pitched Headlong into a Camellia Bush

PITCHED HEADLONG into a camellia bush

Bruised flowers lie all around me

Not only has the wind crushed them now

But I, in my ivory tower

I sit in shock, brought suddenly to earth

Surprises surround me on every side

Our camellias, fallen and sadly damaged

Given a kind of spilled-petaled significance

And from our ivory cherry tree

Our cherry-stones are clearer now

Now that we have dined on their flesh

To have consumed all these evanescent living things

Leaves inner parts free to express themselves awhile                     

In unveiled wonder, more open to understanding

Seeing even the tiniest portions of a hidden revelation

That there was more to be had

In leaving one beautiful thing behind  

By eating away its outer part

Till there was only the kernel left

Was beyond being an engaging concept

It was the substance for finding

For finding what before we had completely missed

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