by Brian Kingston
A poem written in response to Lily in the Grinder.
Answers feel distant
When being subsists,
And reminds us
How little we know
Of life's promise of bliss.
Internal struggle
Isolation,
loss
Covered by ties
And Suits and jobs.
White lies that reinforce
Our distance
from Each other.
But we're connected
By strings
by thoughts.
By knots
Not naughts
Infected with wonder
Caught in a web of existence
Tied by subsistence
Resistant to our misgivings of:
Repetition
Competition
Life's Attrition.
Between pain and joy,
Between life and death
And between jobs,
There is something ephemeral,
Atemporal
Nearly sensible
In those little moments of clarity
Amid all the perceived disparity.
It's all there.
Always revealing itself.
Even when it's not,
Through each of us.
Death ties the knots
Of those threads and strings
And shows us the meaning
That each being brings.