Twilight Plea

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 13, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 13, 2018



Trees as lungs and rivers for veins;

The earth and I are pretty well the same.

Ferocious atmospheres inspire our expressive minds,

Patterned landscapes like skin with well-defined lines.

Natural rhythms pulse the great heart of existence:

Creation, destruction, symbiotic parts and parasitic,



I think.


Isn’t it a marvel how God shapes the natural shell

to encourage us with how we can shape ourselves?

Right doesn’t exist and neither does wrong.

We are simply connected, affected, affecting, and part of it all.

We, instead,




extremes make sense.

Only perception, they are dark and light.

Seeming separate, we make ourselves choose sides.


Perhaps in our desire for answers and certainty,

There is a misunderstanding in what we have been interpreting.

Witness a twilight or dawn, the natural states of in-between

And the contenders of our blessed theory of extremes.  

Day and night merge to become the other;

These worlds simultaneously contradict and accept each other.


For once, don't think. Just then, let that glory unfold.

Without employed logic, you’ll know:

We are in the ever-always in-between.

There never were any extremes.

If we cease our incessant loud


And release those certain heavy


And instead,

just be,

In the transitional time of two worlds meeting as one,

we will meet with them and they will pour all their

Ignorance and curiosity,

Disgust and beauty,

Apathy and love,

Into our still, silent cups.

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