"One hundred years from now, as people look back on
our use of this continent, we shall not be praised for our
reckless use of its oil, nor the loss of our forests;
we shall be heartily damned for all these things.
But we may take comfort in the knowledge that we
shall certainly be thanked for the national parks."

~Secretary of the Interior Ray Lyman Wilbur, 1931

Sunday, August 22, 2010

PoemPost - August 22, 2010

TWO

Highland

Droplets
Misting thru my fingertips
Invisible, yet tangible

Slowly
I progress, but do I miss out
by holding back?

Conscientiousness
Reason, Logic, Morals
Self-control
Can tear you apart
So that you miss feeling the most
as it passes you by

Both

How do you wander without any anchor?
Is it easier never to drag in the sand?
Or harder to never stay at port,
to always be searching.
What does it mean to pass another ship? To long for their companionship, unsure of how they'll feel about you. Did you ever desire to raft up? Or to speed on past?
Do you ever feel torn in two?

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