Edges chipped and worn,
serrated by the soul,
the boundary of self
where time chews slow,
forlorn, and in the simple
doing, and being of us
all, we are remade, re-
formed, reborn, as who
we're meant to be, while
even in those moments,
we have no knowledge
sure, no sense of what's
intended, just knowing
there is more; beyond
the mere token that we
see of our material self.
serrated by the soul,
the boundary of self
where time chews slow,
forlorn, and in the simple
doing, and being of us
all, we are remade, re-
formed, reborn, as who
we're meant to be, while
even in those moments,
we have no knowledge
sure, no sense of what's
intended, just knowing
there is more; beyond
the mere token that we
see of our material self.
Indeed... the token is in itself nothing, it's in ourselves the value lies.
ReplyDeleteI had to read and re-read this piece. It's very thought-provoking. I like the idea that we are re-made by ourselves, that there is something in us that can be opened up by our forgetfulness of our "self".
ReplyDeleteA wonderful write. "Edges chipped and worn," beautiful line, followed by, "serrated by the soul."
ReplyDeleteWe are tokens of love to ourselves. Good point. There is more beyond the material token of our selves.
ReplyDeleteI'll take edges chipped and worn any day.
ReplyDelete