Marks are made.
Despite ourselves we etch away,
We leave behind.
A few might even dare
To place something proudly on the landscape,
Just for its own sake,
Or so that afterwards
They might be spoken of by strangers.
But, either way, it matters not.
For when our souls are open
Connections occur.
Perhaps there is a clue here,
A hint of something more fluid,
More oceanic.
A fugue state that makes more sense of all this,
Our pattern, our purpose,
Our struggle to be serene…
I do believe that the “marks” we make are significant , throughout history it is the marks in various art forms that tell the stories that touch us now. The drive to create and leave something behind is one of the kindest motives, believing you have something to share or pass on to those you leave behind. I am so glad the people no longer in my life have left their little marks ! Never to be forgotten ! But I guess you are saying it is not just the tangible stuff that remains but the spirit too ?
Thank you x
Yup, exactly – just a reminder of sorts that those (and maybe especially those!) whose humility perhaps discourages them from ever deliberately leaving behind any finite talisman of their own, can also – just by being who they are and honestly giving what they can – unconsciously create/bequeath us plenty that is precious, enduring and magical, whenever their heart sings true…
Your thoughts are much appreciated