writing Erosion

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

We do not feel emotion

Rather, we experience a changing upon our lives

For better or for worse

 

We are merely piles of stones

Shaped by the winds of life

Widdled into fine statues of our embodied minds

Standing oh so still

Changing oh so slowly

Only by the little things you never see

 

The sands of time

The only honest answer that the planet seems to give

Directing these sands at us, these statues

This is the basis of our change

Only because we all need a little help to get that far

And thus, our erosion is our only creation

 

The changing world around us

Through which we are shown all the miracles

All the inspiration

The will to deteriorate

 

And then there is the rain

Of such is the most important to us

For every statue is born of a blank expression

Devoid of humanity, purpose,

And the experience we know as emotion

Yet, when the rains come

It is such a gift

 

Waiting, standing alone in downpour

As the sands of time churn about as well

And upon that blank face, grooves begin to be made present

Channeling all across the void

 

By the power of the rain, with its mystical erosion of creation

We statues earn our faces

Whether by an experience of joy, or pain

Our faces show

 

 

-David Favret