Often it seems
that one of the most
innate desires
of human existence
is to be remembered,
whether by the many
or a specific few.
We spend
our entire lives
carving into stone,
as deeply
as we can cut
and with whatever tools
we can find,
the simple,
fleeting truth
that, “I was here.”
No matter the depth
of the inscription,
the unyielding exfoliant
of time
will one day
wear it down flat,
leaving nothing
but a bald,
smooth surface,
a perfect place
for some new dreamer
to prove his existence
to future generations…
Until then,
though my efforts
be futile,
I will chisel
into life’s craggy canvas,
hoping to cut so deeply
that the tools I lose
in the recesses
of each letter
will not be uncovered
for millennia.
This is a very wise observation. You have captured a deep desire in each person; to be worthy to be remembered.
🙂
Good Thursday morning, hello Jacob, as usual I totally enjoyed these
new writings. ‘ Grief ‘ was especially moving !
Put my name of your upcoming book, and yes I want a signed copy.
Please give James a hug from me.
Til we speak again, good day.
Bob
Thank you, Bob! You will have a copy of the book with my signature on it! Thanks for always reading, and I gave James your hug earlier today 🙂