Philosophical Poetry

The Soul's Canvas

self-discovery

  • Threshold

    Threshold

    The voice of the teacher,
    is a note on the air,
    spooling a story,
    threads of alchemy.

    Eyes meet with yours,
    a flash of comprehension,
    a breath of understanding held,
    as the magic word is proffered,
    one syllable, a phrase,
    simple sounds charged with power.

    The door is in front of you,
    plain wood,
    a simple catch.
    No fanfare, no trumpets,
    but the unspoken offer
    borne within that breathed word.

    The promise on your tongue,
    a vocal key.
    The choice unfurls
    a peaceful landscape in your mind.

    To say it,
    to unlock the secret lock,
    to step over the threshold
    into the space waiting.

    It is yours to take.
    The story given,
    the secret revealed,
    the journey offered.

    The way inward,
    begins with a word,
    spoken, or perhaps,
    kept silent,
    a truth recognized,
    and finally,
    stepped across.

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

  • I Visit

    I Visit

    I visit
    A domain within me;
    Just mind,
    No walls or doors.
    Painted by time and
    Emotion are landscapes of memory.

    I visit,
    I visit always,
    Every reason but none in particular.
    Sometimes I go to cry.
    Tears on fields of regret fall
    Watering seeds of ‘what-ifs’
    that never seem to bloom,‌
    But always present to visit

    I visit.
    A roundabout of the mind
    I turn and turn around
    Different horses but the same journey
    I start and finish in the same place

    I visit.
    Sometimes I visit stars
    Of missed chances to make my wishes
    Sometimes I visit to thank
    Ghosts of days gone by

    I visit.
    This familiar cage,
    Which will never let me go.
    I carry this place around
    Even there on bright days are its shadows.

    I visit
    Here as a captain and crewman,
    Difficult journey through stormy thoughts,
    However much I try to find a way back home
    But am caught up by drifting currents.

    I visit
    When I’m lost
    In the maze of the present tense.
    Sometimes I visit
    Hoping yesterday will soon
    Become today.

    Repeating the same thing
    But expecting different outcomes
    It is a memory of visiting
    I often do.

    I visit.
    I always visit.
    For in visiting, I am,
    Both lost and found again.

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

  • Already, Always

    Already, Always

    You are already
    Who you are,
    Who you wish to be.

    The path you seek
    Is beneath your feet.
    The summit you chase
    Beats within your chest.

    The acorn doesn’t doubt
    The oak in its heart.
    The caterpillar doesn’t fear
    Its butterfly wings.

    You are already
    Who you are,
    Who you wish to be.

    Your journey is
    to uncover and embrace.

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