Herein lies the beginning of two things and I feel it only necessary to explain. For one, I’ll be participating whenever possible in weekly prompts. These will be tagged with Sunday Scribblings as well as said entry number. If such things are of similar interest then I invite you to do the same. Now for the other reason I’ve been urged to dust off the blog and edit posts. It was during a social outing and subsequent long car ride back that I formed a pact with two others. We vowed to exercise our skills and do a little bit of something every day. The 365 Challenge. This too will be tagged in much the same manner and should you prove curious I would gladly point you in the proper direction of the participants.
That which I have opted to do is write half a page of something. I may on the occasion depart from the usual and supply a photo and description or brush up on some of my other abilities. Actually it would be wise to make it so varied, seeing how little I’ve retained of my former brilliance. In any case, this was written well before the time of which it is dated due to lack of access to the internet. Most of the successive posts are likely going to follow in the same vein. But I’ve said enough, and humbly offer up this oddly terrible riddle that was inspired by the word of last week. E-cookies to those of you that solve it. I’ll put the answer I was angling for in the next message. Truthfully, I’ll likely change the thing sometime later to make it less awkward/difficult and more riddle-like.
I partake of the absence of silence in the world
from the cursed confines of my aged prison
where even time and memory have seen fit
to tenderly mask what mouths may speak.
Yet this collection is not greedily treasured;
Indeed, I part most amiably with such things
provided you can extract the darkness of shadow
from it’s cradled structure and leave it complete.
An imprint directly from the source’s origin
I am the unconscious elephant in the room
in that my presence is seldom acknowledged
nor actively realized with cognizant thought.
I have looped the ends of this earth in search
of being utterly victorious in the eternal pursuit.
But ever have I always lost and so it has been foretold
from the first, and so it shall pass in years to come.
There are odd contrasts to that which is me;
sometimes outrageously bold or stuttering and soft
I nonetheless always become a bass beat to the main melody.
Yet that is not all of the myriad mysteries that dwell within.
Still, there’s no sense to the sporadic mantra
that is my permitted medium of communication.
I am made all moods simply by virtue of reflection
to rise and fall according to climatic fashion.
Who or What am I?
***
***
[365 Challenge (Day 1), Sunday Scribblings (Entry #217)]
0 comments:
Post a Comment