It's just poetry, it won't bite

Ripples in Time


01.10.14 Posted in today's words by

Speculation in the form of poetry by Julie Ellinger Hunt.

Ripples in Time
By Julie Ellinger Hunt

We are not carbon copies
of our parents or random
genetic consequences.

We are recycled.

Bits of ourselves reused.
Repurposed
from someone less suited
but just as wise.
Their direction always pointed correctly but their timing off,
their glasses foggy.
Their surroundings unkind.

We may think we are new when we
enter this world. Eyes newly opened.

But I argue differently.

I refer to one’s gut
or ripples in time,
that distinct feeling you have seen
that face before. Heard that voice.
Felt those lips on your own.

That overwhelming inclination to hold on tightly to someone you hardly
know. As if losing them meant your own demise.

Ah. Those ripples in time.

And you think this is our own path? Our own pattern constructed by
free will? Liberated by our own clever minds?

Is it possible our path was always leading toward that one true
direction and it is our stupidity
getting in the way of our fate,
our happiness,

Our destiny …

I wonder as well.

 



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