In owldom, fliers adored me because underneath my cover, the scurriers could not hide.

In mousedom, whiskers considered both my presence and worth no better than feculence.

Now that I have been separated from a reason and tied to self’s singularity, I have no way to know whether or not I am a shadow or a reflection.

Without a compliment or a condemnation, do my florettes merit either gasconade or ridicule?

Will I prevaricate regarding identity truths if I have no one from whom to receive feedback?

Then, bloomed the realization that I was never forming myself from external inputs; I was choosing to prefer the ones I already wanted to win.

Still, between each sunrise and each sunset, I now try to let each and every placed purpose pass—for both my growth and my survival depend on defining myself—by myself—for myself—as splendidly limned of both light and dark. : )

Categories: Melange

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


Travels of : ँ : a Yogin

J. P. D. T.

Blogs, Stories, and Poetries

Help Break The Silence

Give A Voice to the Voiceless

My Literary Quest

Helping you find your own literary magic



Kmwblogger's Blog

Just another WordPress.com weblog


WordPress.com is the best place for your personal blog or business site.

Peteroo's Blog

Words Of The Day Of Scribble And Sense

WordPress.com News

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: