Poetry
Fail, Glory, Episode
My return…if you will
Cards and foreseers have offered no resolution
The spirits have stayed silent against my cries
Elucidation has become my obsession
And I will not relinquish my pining for certainty
For no path is without a destination
And I have walked many miles to no avail
Failure has become my point of rest
There is no shelter from the deluge of doubt
Seeking a cure for my indisposition
I make my way down the philosophers’ cave
I question the intention of deities old
Catechizing as ire leaps off my tongue
I scan the Sage’s face in desperation
Searching for the answer arcane
She stares back in melancholic perplexity
Confused by my fervor and the nature of my ask
Child, there is glory in the collapse
For strength lies in the restoration
To fail is to live an examined life
One lined with lessons in humility
Still, I refuse her explanation, for all life has an end
And each ending necessitates a conclusion
Cynicism is merely an episode in a revue spanning decades
There is no plot, no glorious end, life is simply a production
I’ve been having a hard time creatively since my mental health took a plunge in February 2024. In response, I’ve committed myself to push beyond my therapeutic writing. Inspired by other writers on Medium, I decided to use a random word generator. I’ve done six pulls so far. This is the first of those attempts. Though the latter has much better titles!
The specific inspiration behind this poem comes from longing.
I think a lot of us, to varying extents, wish to be told our purpose and how to achieve it. To my ancestors, the answer was simple. Your purpose was to exist, maintain natural-spiritual balance, and act as a steward to this planet. Still, there are times when I question [part of] this interpretation.
What does it mean to be, in a world such as this? One so filled with aberration that being is seen as lazy and unprofitable?
According to the Sage, to truly *be* is to live a life with mistakes made and lessons learned. Which, in this society, are seen as failures. Not the obligatory parts of the experience. Success is the goal. As vague as it is. But isn’t that vagueness the point? Does it not posit that success is subjective? That what we long for is an experience, not an answer?
AVG
