Where the Pavement Ends (An Original Poem)

2025-03-21T15:31:21
Agents and architects, masterfully stoking fear and hate then unleashing their unwitting army in the direction of their choosing,
Drawing imaginary lines in the sand, building silos instead of bridges, stacking stones into stories far too many are eager to read,
To escape their conscription we must have the courage to experience a world opposite our own— be willing to walk barefoot on the prickly path where the pavement ends,
We must be brave in ways in which we speak in echoes where silence reigns, trade the great comforts of our certainty for the sanctity of the unknown.
Take me away from the world, this world, where words fall woefully short of my reality, where things unfold beyond our understanding but no one ever bothers to ask why, where stories of pain and stories of hope are written in ink that never seems to dry.
~Eric Vance Walton~
Be well and make the most of this day.
(Gif sourced from Giphy.com)

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Poetry should move us, it should change us, it should glitch our brains, shift our moods to another frequency. Poetry should evoke feelings of melancholy, whimsy, it should remind us what it feels like to be in love, or cause us to think about something in a completely different way. I view poetry, and all art really, as a temporary and fragile bridge between our world and a more pure and refined one. This is a world we could bring into creation if enough of us believed in it. This book is ephemera, destined to end up forgotten, lingering on some dusty shelf or tucked away in a dark attic. Yet the words, they will live on in memory. I hope these words become a part of you, bubble up into your memory when you least expect them to and make you feel a little more alive.


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