Poetic Perspectives: “Masterpiece” and “A Walk”

Ernest Collins ’23 shares two striking poems for this week’s edition of Poetic Perspectives. The pieces both feature themes of self-discovery and resiliency.

Poetic Perspectives: “Masterpiece” and “A Walk”
Ernest Collins ʼ23 shares two striking poems for this week’s edition of Poetic Perspectives. The pieces both feature themes of self-discovery and resiliency. Photo Courtesy of Piqsels.

Masterpiece

Today is only a fragment of your imagination,

A fragment of your personality,

A piece of the endless puzzle,

And I am still trying to put my pieces together,

And I have been working on this puzzle for 21 years,

And sometimes it feels like an abyss.

7,770 days of pieces and I still haven’t pieced them together. And that’s okay.

Because if I had all of my pieces together,

Then life wouldn’t be worth living.

I've learned to start on the outside.

Don't dig from the inside first,

Work from the outside in.

Because you cannot finish the puzzle without the edges, Edges of sweet moments,

that are shaping you into the masterpiece you will be. Shaping you into the person you will be.

The puzzle may seem to go for infinity,

But it is quick, to say the least.

So sit back,

Breathe,

Relax,

And don’t spend too much time contemplating every piece. Enjoy the moment,

Embrace your dreams,

Because we only get one opportunity to piece it all together. Only one opportunity to get it right.

A Walk

The road feels longer some days.

My mind wanders,

So I find my body meandering too,

Above the gravel of crushed memories,

Holding onto the hope of a serene view.

With dusted feet,

A mind on retreat,

Feelings of defeat,

Sight resides as a treat.

I may walk,

Shuffle,

While the animals scuffle,

I may talk,

To vegetation that doesn’t speak back,

I may listen,

To the calls of a world that doesn’t know I’m listening, I may dream,

But do I know what any of this means?

Sometimes.

Sometimes,

I lie down, dehydrated,

To slow a vessel that keeps moving,

In a time that isn’t mine either.

All I can do is keep up.

With my heartbeat,

The choir of tweets.

Just pick up my feet,

One after the other.

And hope,

That the view from there,

Will hold more than what is here,

I will still be holding on to the sights,

That may not be so clear.

Knowing that with growth,

Comes with the depths of fear,

Of knowing the next dip in the path,

Means an ascendance

is near.

And sometimes,

I have to just let go,

And embrace the surroundings I know.

The road may feel longer some days,

But I will keep moving,

Returning to the Dionysian,

Willfully this time.