The Borders of Ourselves

What are you thinking?

Can I ever truly know?

Even if you tell me,

What unnamed thoughts remain below,

Beneath the threshold words express?

And so, your thoughts stay foreign,

Unless somehow our minds extend

Beyond the borders of ourselves, to blend.

 

This poem explores the extent to which we can truly know and understand one another. Being aware of all the random thoughts that occur within my own mind, it's difficult to see how we could ever arrive at a similar level of awareness regarding the thoughts of others. If we're not able to do that, is it possible to ever truly know someone as we know ourselves? I don't know, but the poem ends with the hope that it is possible, because perhaps, somehow, our minds go beyond what we can rationally perceive or quantify within the physical confines of our own heads - extending into other places where they can truly come into contact.

When Golden Flowers Fall

When golden flowers fall

And silver stems decay,

Their leaves of jade go floating

Where all things pass away,

For riches may enthrall,

May glitter for a time,

But never will their treasured note

Outlast the final chime.

 

This poem makes the point that, even though material riches may seem a bit more long-lasting than a flower's quick decaying, they still diminish over time. They are ephemeral, just like anything else in this life, and when our lives do come to a close, those riches will be lost to us completely. Personally, this idea makes me think that the world should focus a bit less on money and markets and prices, and a bit more on other things.

Open Sky

Every once in a while

I wonder why

The sky seems to open in reply

To something feeling broken

Within the little world I see.

Despair awoken

By pain unspoken,

The sunset streaks the clouds and comforts me.

 

As I've mentioned before, I have a nice balcony where I like to sit and read, especially on the weekends. Almost always, sitting out there gives me an immediate sense of calm as I look out over the buildings and distant hills, particularly when the sun is setting. Sun's rays emerge through clouds and paint pale pinks and purples across the western sky. It helps me to remember the majesty of the world, bigger than any small difficulties I might be facing.

Parts to Play

Listen to the music.

Find what notes to add

In consonance or dissonance

With joyful melodies or sad,

But cadences are always

Left somewhat incomplete.

The phrases stretch beyond ourselves

In measures we will never meet.

 

I often think in musical terms, and this poem focuses on using a musical metaphor to reflect our lives. It makes the point that our choices and actions (the notes we add) contribute something to the overall harmony of the world, or clash with it. It also points out that, while our part in the symphony will end, the music will continue on - hopefully enriched in some way by what we offered.