Thursday, October 29, 2009

True Silence

I have seen rain fall hard and dark with pain.
I have heard weeping, what a thunderous sound --
The thought that no more shall I lose or gain --
My body lies still in the frosty mound
Yet still my soul walks through this world this life
As one who sees though none can see me back
I see the world and all its hurt and strife --
Perhaps this breath is not all that I lack --
For those who cling to silence weeps my heart;
For now that I have gone, I am forgot.
My words and deeds have fallen all apart.
The life I led became as all for naught
When I, convinced that living was a curse,
I took my life and rode in a black hearse.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

The Gift Bag

I often like to sit in the little downtown courtyard of my town and listen to the fountain trickling, the people laughing, and the birds chirping. I like to watch the people too and see which people like to go to which stores. It’s not that I stalk people or anything, I just like to sit and observe them and wonder what their lives are like.

About two years ago, a little paper boutique went in where the nail salon used to be. Its window was arrayed with pretty little birthday cards and photo albums, but on a display box in the center of the window stood a stunning gift bag. Thin silver thread adorned the gold body of the bag in a beautiful embroidered fashion, silver sequence and jewels glittered in various crisscross patterns and designs, and a large silver bow surmounted the bag with great elegance. When the sunlight shown through the window the bag would sparkle and shimmer. It was a beautiful sight to be sure, yet there it stayed day after day, sparkling for all it was worth. Pedestrians strolling by would often see the beautiful bag and make their way into the store; but after careful examination of the gift bag, they left it there in the window and came out with a different one. The other gift bags in the store were also beautiful. The storekeeper crafted a wide variety of bags in many different colors, all delicately thought out. His gift bags soon became very popular with the public who would come from neighboring towns just to buy a bag.

Months passed, but still the beautiful gift bag sat in the window; no one would take it home. I thought it a shame that something so beautiful would stay so unwanted. As I continued to observe this little shop, I noticed that each day the price on the gift bag would drop slightly; each day the flickering of the sequence seemed more and more obnoxious; each day I began to like the bag less and less until I began to despise it. At that moment, I noticed something peculiar about the bag, something that may be why all those customers left the bag sitting in the window; the gift bag had no handles. It was utterly useless and ultimately ugly.