Just a Thought

by Ron Reed

It is a big place, this world
and if we live within our means
is the space we occupy smaller than our shadow?
If you live inside your own mind,
the debate
the argument you struggle with
is the sound of your own ears ringing.

There is a breeze outside today
from a pillowed blue sky
what does it mean?
Each gust brings a new breath
single, unrepeated
a blink of life
another reason.

Placid yet deliberate
the confinement of control
islands are hilltops,
sharing space with distant lands.
Seeds cast by winds
influence other shores
planted and retained.

Memory is a trick we play
hyperboles grounded
where sense and logic
transcend reality informed
sainthood eminent revealed
not argued
the comfortable place to rest.

How do we resolve ourselves
how do we plan a legacy
contrition assigned
remorse resolved
resolve deployed
conveyance refined
to truth or imagination.

So here it is, just a thought
the thing that crosses your mind
Life in action becomes a memory
Life in cycle,
revisited, refined
coming full circle
and here we are, just a thought

©Ron Reed 2012

2 thoughts on “Just a Thought by Ron Reed

  1. I have found the debate so complex that the microcosm inside the head becomes bigger than the cosmos; for the reality is individual and tackling consciousness, imagination, memory, in a poem that is philosophical in nature and yet offers a window outside the confines of the mind in “a pillowed blue sky” make “sense and logic” cease their torment for a while. The search for an axiom that would make sense of the senseless had Descartes, so history tells us, lock himself in an oven for a day before he emerged with his famous axiom on reality and consciousness—“I think, therefore I am” makes a few words you could fit in a thimble encompass and define the difference between sentient and non and that is and was an earth-shaking statement wherein the mystery, the inchoate, is easy to get to now and it would seem, Ron, once memory is revealed as a trick played where “sense and logic” become welcome mediators some balance is achieved and a bit of angst banished as “a comfortable place to rest” is found where “hyperboles are grounded”; a line I relate to and love. The questioning of “truth or imagination” was a fitting last line I thought. When I realized my printer did not print the last stanza, I found it even more intriguing as we ended up still pondering the very nature of thought. I love this poem. Difficult and multi-layered it clings to the belief, to me, that it is not the destination but the journey. A journey as complex, imaginative, and thoughtful as the traveler who seeks out places for which there are no maps. Great poem, Ron. Thank you.~~~~~~~~~~~~~love and light, willow

    • Willow – I hve never know n another person who would take such time to understand something without judgement and with conviction in their dissection of an idea…you amaze me and THANK YOU!


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