Stanley somehow found a way

To turn his colors into gray

Waterfalls to bays

Lovely sculptures into clay

 

His postal route went on and on

He died each day – was mostly gone

His eagle spirit hid within

With broken wings – not seeing him

 

THE WATER

 

He stuck his toes into it

The cold was an impediment

“It’s scary” was his sentiment

 

THE HURDLE

 

His life had been a dreary time

Always feeling in a bind

Of promises and compromise

 

A moment came within a flash

Like brilliance from an epitaph

New bearings from the longitude

Of hope from lifetime solitude

​

An attitude arose in him

That captured many lesser men

Who questioned their abilities

To master different properties

 

He stood at the water’s edge

And looked deep down

His spirit hedged

Considering a solemn pledge

 

Why not dive in something new

Not knowing what it’s leading to?

 

If you don’t try - his spirit said

It feels as if you’re early dead

 

So close your mind to other thoughts

And focus on the daily cost

Of forgetting that your life is lost

Within a dreary Pentecost

​

Of worldy deeds not meaning much

Forgetting dreams and wanderlust

That lost all meaning in the glut

Of finding what your sadness brought

 

AWAKENING

 

So Stanly had not much to lose

But hackneyed wishes/platitudes

Sleepy actions / sour moods

Robotic chopping of life’s wood

 

He awoke one day

And just said no

His soul staring down his toe

 

He gazed upon the water wide

Saw its vast expanse inside

Knew his time had now arrived

 

He floated in the air that day

It seemed like hours on the way

For lifetimes he often did not stray

The splash – it marked another way

 

HIS SOUL

​

His soul kept watching far away

Hoping this - his judgment day

Would make him act another way

And promises of life sashay

From deep within his spirit say:

 

“There’s much you can be living for

Other than an inner war

That causes you to cherish more

 

Slow down your life of gathering

That which others want to bring

To fill your cup by offering

Empty wants and empty things

 

Dive in the pool of Difference

Searching for kinds of betterment

Instead of a living detriment

 

Be open to the wind that blows

New worlds to you

In slow repose

By coloring your life’s rainbows

 

Gray is not your color now

It was for years - it told you how

To lose yourself and how to plow

Through life without a clue that now

 

You can see things a different way

All’s new every single day

Without a need to be or stay

Within the boundaries of dismay”

 

So Stanley dove into the pool

And started life with different rules

That said to act from gratitude

And hope and heart  - not servitude

​

Dive in the pool of different things

And bright gold colors

With sculpted rings

And sunsets of a life to be

With all your goals for inner needs.