by Romain Thiery in France
Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #150
Come join us!
“If you look to others for fulfillment, you will never be
truly fulfilled.” Lao Tzu
Purpose and fulfilment are not places you can enter like a
cathedral hall
they do not belt out tunes in choirs
they are but a whisper
soft like a piano
nudging shyly on the arms of men
as children hoping for their way
purpose cannot be held with enclosed hands
it is a vase in which we choose to place the flowers
the ones we picked in the meadow just for you
and when it is broken
the flowers lay wilted
remember that my friend.
I love that quote. So true! The poem is equally meaningful and beautifully crafted!
ReplyDeleteand when it is broken
ReplyDeletethe flowers lay wilted
remember that my friend.
Lots of things in life that survive through the goodness of others but the consequences are
beyond one's control. Very true, Carrie! One must have the resolve to choose those within one's means! Solid writing Ma'am!
Hank
The hands, the flowers, the fulfillment - beautiful images!
ReplyDeleteYes Carrie. Purpose and fulfillment aren't places you can enter like a cathedral hall. Well put around that quote.
ReplyDeleteI love the idea of purpose being a vase filled with flowers "picked just for you"......beautiful, Carrie.
ReplyDeleteVery sage lesson here, our vases aren't guaranteed. Several ventures and plans have lost their vases, their purposes are trashed.
ReplyDelete..
Love the way purpose and fulfillment are active partners in this.
ReplyDeleteThe vase of fulfillment, a message to fill it carefully with the scents of who you are and want to be. Your message is strong and I have to say this speaks volumes in today's world. It feels zen
ReplyDeletelike. So well done!
Your poem feels like it comes from a choir of muses. Very good instruction here.
ReplyDelete"it is a vase in which we choose to place the flowers / the ones we picked in the meadow just for you" that brings it home, puts us in the poem where it matters.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Carrie! I am reminded of the countless vases of flowers I placed in my Mother's hands, from girlhood into adulthood ... each one carrying messages of love and thankfulness.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful...survival for each of us has its own blossom. It is the garden of self where the music and petal grow as uniquely as the fingerprints that tend it.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much everyone for taking the time to read, and for all your lovely comments. Wishing you all a wonderful week!
ReplyDeleteFrom the first line, this poem had my heart.
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