Words Conjured Into Being

an empty room full of things

i’ve heard farmers talk of soil
as if they were talking about
a relative
a close friend
or a loved one
that passed away
the rhythms of the earth
and the sky
the bugs
the animals
and the rain
dog earring pages
in a diary of memories
that become more potent as they fade away

i’ve listened
eyes glistening
as musicians speak
of songs
refrains
bands
and that one show
before that band got too famous
as if they were speaking
of their newborn child
innocent
beautiful
something to hold
and behold
forever

it’s at times like these
that i step back
and time travel to the edges
of the world
i look down on my tiny parcel
my tiny universe
and i wonder
what courses through my veins
is there anything that makes me feel alive?
or am i just an empty room full of things?

and as i sort through my feelings
putting away some ideas
and saving others
i am reminded of my people
a tribe hidden somewhere
in the farthest reaches
of a comfortable
dimly lit corner
of this vast
vast
cosmos

i am called forth
to speak up for curiosity
and abundance
and the amazing diversity of life…

it’s not as if we are alone here
the same patterns
repeat
over
and over
and over again

just stop for a moment
i say
plunge your hands into the soil of life
feel the richness of this land
the fullness of expression
cascading fields of sunflowers
brushing up against
cascading and raging waterfalls
i am here for a reason
you a here for a reason
and at the very least
we are here for someone…

even if
we are
just
an empty room full of things

—

a note from the poet:

sometimes i write a poem that sounds kinda “dark” and people write me
back to say “warren, are you ok? that poem was kinda dark”. sometimes
i’m not ok. that’s life right? we all have ups and downs.

it’s not that simple though… for me poetry is like music and
sometimes a poem just comes out in a minor key even when i am in a
great mood. this is the case here. i had just finished watching the
movie The Real Dirt on Farmer John (which is a great movie by the way)
and i was feeling inspired.

but the movie did make me question something about myself. what am i
made of? and what makes me feel alive? and is there something(s)
and/or someone(s) that potentize me and connect me to this life? the
answer is yes. there are many things; music, art, friends, love,
romance (surprised?), family, myself, the land, the ocean, food,
drumming, travel, and sometimes the quiet night sky.

last night as i walked into my room i looked around and saw my room as
a metaphor for my life. my room filled with things i love to use, to
touch, to smell, to look at and to hear… things i am connected to.
it’s definitely not an empty room full of things. but as an
inquisitive person i had to pause and ask anyway.

a little bit about me then. don’t expect to always get an explanation.
sometimes i like to leave you guessing :-)

i hope y’all have a beautiful day!

peace,

war

p.s. as the skunk said when the wind come up, “it’s all com back to me now.”

http://youtu.be/0egeHh1_Sb4 <—- The Real Dirt on Farmer John movie trailer