Philosophical Poetry

The Soul's Canvas

fragmentation

  • Bridges of the Scattered Self

    Bridges of the Scattered Self

    When estrangement gains its hold,
    a quiet severing begins,
    not only from the voices without,
    but from the murmur within.

    We imagine the gulf yawns
    only between ourselves and another,
    a space grown cold and wide.

    But look again.
    The mind wanders a forgotten path,
    a memory foggy with time,
    or a future yet unspun.

    Thoughts drift like leaves
    blown far,
    on a wind we cannot name.

    And the body
    experiences the phantom pull
    of somewhere else
    while remaining rooted
    in this precise moment.

    Even the eyes,
    which are windows
    to an invisible world,
    gaze blankly into the present
    while concentrating
    on a far-off shore.

    Our fragmented
    and scattered selves,
    each floating aimlessly
    in its own ocean.

    Kindness
    should therefore be
    a gentle hand
    that unites all differences.
    And respect
    the bridge we build,
    thought by careful thought.
    Allow connection to be
    the gathering, a homecoming
    of all our scattered parts,
    welcomed back
    into the warmth of now.

    Filed under: 🜂 Other – reflecting on connection, relationships, and the spaces between souls.

  • Sometimes

    Sometimes

    Sometimes, our eyes betray us,
    Revealing more than we can hold.

    Sometimes, it’s better
    To turn away,
    To let one side remain in shadow.

    Sometimes, we feel too deeply,
    Our hearts stretch and hurt
    So profoundly.
    Sometimes, we laugh so joyfully,
    And love with all we are.

    Sometimes, our senses overwhelm us.
    Sometimes, it’s better
    To let one side remain unseen.

    Do we show up in fragments,
    Pieces waiting to be reassembled
    And reinterpreted?
    Or do we arrive whole,
    Complete, with all our
    Imperfections, cracks and missing parts?

    Our hopes and dreams
    Rooted in the solid ground
    Of what we can truly offer,
    And what we truly need.

    Sometimes, we see so little.
    Sometimes, it’s enough
    To just arrive—
    To stand and show up for life.

    Sometimes,
    My mirrors reflect
    Sometimes,
    My roots grow deep
    Into the earth of connection
    Sometimes,
    I am fire.
    Sometimes,
    I am ash.
    Sometimes,
    I am present.

    Sometimes, I wonder why.
    Sometimes, I wonder how.
    Sometimes, I wonder when.
    Sometimes, I wonder what.

    Sometimes, I start.
    Sometimes, I finish.
    Sometimes, I give up.
    Sometimes, I am the fight.

    Sometimes, we want more.
    Sometimes, we want less.
    Sometimes, we find the balance
    Of what to give.

    Sometimes, I play God.
    Sometimes, I serve the world.
    Sometimes, I am

    Sometimes,
    In the still moment of silence.

    And sometime,
    Once upon a time.

    Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.