I wonder
I wonder what it's like
to watch the world
speed away without you,
to be left alone
while the wind blows away
pieces of what you once were,
to be conscious of your own fading
into the unremembered, into oblivion,
to become faceless, nameless,
some benevolent giver of life.
I wonder what it's like
to have a future written in stone
and a past of vanishing sand.
Free write:
When I remember my “a-ha moment” from my past, I understand the place I am meant to go with my words and poetry today is somewhere. There's no wrong place for poetry to take you, no wrong place for poetry to go. I'll go wherever the wind blows me, whether it be an enchanted forest or a volcano perched on the edge of eruption.
I realized on a day that there was nothing particularly special about that I am going to die. That's right: I'm not immortal and I won't be young forever. Everything around me is temporary. My world is even more temporary than I am. By the time my grandchildren are born (assuming I have grandchildren), everything will be different. None of them will know what a DVD is, and they'll probably never have been to a movie that isn't 3D. I wonder if I'll get lost in the confusion. If I'll slowly slip away into the sands of time until there's no one left who knows that I existed.
It's a sad thing, being left behind. Possibly even sadder than dying. I don't remember even the names of my great-great grandparents, let along further back. It makes me feel guilty. I wonder if I'll be remembered. If someday someone will be proud to have me as an ancestor, or if I'll be a faceless giver of life.
I'm much more likely to be faceless.
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Notes: Well, my free write was focused upon my intuition (especially the last line of it), but somehow that didn't quite come across in the poem. Though I did focus on the same subject that my a-ha moment surrounded.
