30 Sept 2011

Blank Pages

Our book of life falls open at a page
whereupon we write our stories daily,
with tracery that weaves our souls’ intent
into the fabric of the words we choose;
ours the choice to seek the light or dark
inks to embellish the script of our play.

We have to take the leading role. Each act
supplies a cast of characters for us,
without whom our production would be dull,
a monologue in shades of monotone
uniformity.  So raise the curtain,
let the orchestra play an overture
as we stand in the wings of a stage set
with backdrops poised to paint the scene for life.

Inspiration came today from Imaginary Garden's guided meditation, and I've linked it to Poetry Pantry , too.

6 comments:

  1. Life isn't a rehearsal is it. Our one chance to shine is here and now.

    CJ xx

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  2. This is so true... the mystery and terrible uncertainty of this life.

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  3. I love these lines,
    "So raise the curtain,
    let the orchestra play the overture
    as we stand in the wings of a stage set
    with backdrops poised to paint the scene for life"

    The stage is different for all of us; I enjoyed your poem~

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  4. So true, but sometimes we don't want to take the leading role...

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  5. I love how you have presented this.

    ~laurie kolp

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  6. Love the ending .... poised to paint the scene for life ... a continuous adventure:)

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