Is it any wonder
the world is in conflict
when we continue to speak
in universals and absolutes,
as if truth was known
and reality was witnessed.
These ultimatums
draw lines in sand,
that need not
divide us.
Language,
used irresponsibly
and clinically,
determines right and wrong,
left and right.
Pigeonholed,
and categorised,
we subject ourselves
to walls,
when all we need is
empathy and compassion,
not violence
and intolerence.
Category: Poetry
My mind drifts
My mind drifts,
downstream,
to reminisce,
and to predict –
anxious
of what is
to become.
I float
toward this unknown,
waterfalls, lakes, oceans –
new shores to rest upon;
what becomes of me
has little to do
with the stories I tell,
and everything to do
with the decisions I make.
My mind drifts,
and if I could,
I would plant myself
but I can’t find my feet
to ground myself;
so I plant new seeds,
leave myself
to float away,
and begin again
some other day.
Would you still be there?
All I do
is wake up
and think of myself;
my problems,
my views,
my fears,
my wants
and needs.
What if
I woke up
and only thought of you;
your problems,
your views,
your fears,
your wants,
and all that you need.
Would you still be there?
Lewis Walddren 