Ghost of life

We are worn smooth

Grainy finish tempered by the hands of time

Broken down unknowingly

With each step we take across

The threshold of our days.

We never notice the changes at first

Beginning rough on edges

Not quite finished until we progress forward

For we are born to be forged

Into that which we choose to become.

Like the endless rub of the minutes passing,

Each stroke

And every storm that weathers 

Leaving each corner just a bit more rounded

And so very strong as we stand up 

Against the tides and weather,

Thickening where needed

On the edges where no one dares tread,

We emerge from the depths as the seas of life sink around us,

Broken at times

Yet still standing

And in the ending glow of days,

Our shadows extend to meet the eye

And the soul who ventures forth to glimpse

The perfection of what remains

When all else crumbled so easily

Is always inspired by the knowing

That we survived,

That it can be done.

We sit immersed in the calm

Rippled memories gather and return

Sticking like barnacles to life

So hard to remove

Yet still

A part of the new whole.

7 thoughts on “Ghost of life

  1. Pingback: Experience | paddypicasso

  2. Thanks so much…sorry it took so long to get back to you, working on orientation for the new job. No excuses….but and you, I’m so glad you enjoyed it😊


  3. Good morning Phil,
    Sometimes an edge is a good thing..although as my leg found out while standing on cinder blocks cutting my bunch of bananas down, sometimes they cut nicely. I’m glad you liked it and thank you so much, it’s nice to hear from you too😊 peace and sandpaper? Smooths too. K


  4. Thanks Sheldon,
    Enjoying the cool fall air here, 55 this am…slept with the windows open last night, slept good finally. Hope you’re doing well😊 no sea glass…perhaps later this week when the warmth returns😊☃


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