Destiny's Melody

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

The sounds of life abound. The chirping birds, the barking dogs, the rain against the windowpane, a resonance of serenity that veils the frenzied chaos that permeates the normality and predictability of life below the starry nights and glaring light of day.

DESTINEY’S MELODY

By Al Garcia

 

The sounds of life abound.

The chirping birds, the barking dogs,

the rain against the windowpane,

a resonance of serenity that veils the frenzied chaos

that permeates the normality and predictability of life

below the starry nights and glaring light of day. 

 

Such beauty beyond compare.

Such splendor in the texture and the color,

and the aroma of wild fields of lavender and chamomile.

Simplicity at its perfection.

The fragrance sweet, the sight a great delight.

Surrounded by so much

for the body, mind and soul to consume.

So much to touch, to feel, to seek, to know.

And yet, we squander the magnificence, grandeur and wonder

that surrounds us, with the bitterness of disillusionment,

cynicism, scorn and disdain.

 

The human imagination filled with bourgeoning potential,

as seen in the great works of art, literature, music,

and unimaginable discoveries of every kind and type.

Yet, the height of human accomplishments,

demolished by the pettiness of human arrogance and greed,

more powerful than the allure of the beauty and the splendor

that surrounds and beckons with its radiance and its wonder. 

 

Destiny’s melody drowns out the chirping birds, the barking dogs,

the rain falling, and the quiet of a summer’s day.

It is the roar of bombs bursting in air.

The screams of mutilated and wounded men on battlefields.

The ugly uttered shouts and slurs from embittered souls

against the weak, the meek, the yearning minds

who merely seek to hear the mellow sounds of life,

as it was meant to be.

How cruel and deceiving to know that the best in us

cannot control the worst of us. 

 

We can only glimpse the beauty and the splendor,

the texture, the color and the aroma of nature’s treasures,

through tears of frustration, and the agony of helplessness.

For the symphony has been written in the blowing winds of time.

And destiny’s melody, too loud to let the gentle music of the night

 embrace the body, mind and soul of man. 

 

And with one loud shout

or bang or blast,

the melody will stop,

and destiny fulfilled,

and then THE night returns –

without sounds that abound,

without light that shines in the sky,

and without life that gave meaning to the night.


Submitted: October 09, 2021

© Copyright 2022 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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