Poetry - Sound of the Falling Tree Copywrite © By Mark J. Williams 05/02/02

Some say that when a tree falls in the distant forest, the sound travels beyond the boundaries of our universe.

On the journey back to its origin, it synergizes with other sounds; sounds of joy and pain; sound of loss and gain.

The sound of the falling tree becomes transformed into its own universe of energy.

Upon its impact, it carries promises, dreams, experiences, both good and bad. Its explosion spreads to other life forms (the birds, the trees, the tiger, the bees) giving them the opportunity to experience and appreciate its journey.

Like the sound of the falling tree, such is life. Life, how short, cruel, joyful it might be, travels through time capturing these elements of joy and pain; of ones loss; of ones gain.

We have the chance to accept its mystic synergy; to embrace its power. Any attempt to control it will only cause a friction and it will swallow us whole and absorb us into its core.

Like the sound of the falling tree, so are the words and experiences we have shared, are sharing and will share. They too travel and will never die; only to return. Our spirits will always remember the journey, whether short or long.

Poetry - Choice Copywrite © By Mark J. Williams 07/06/03

It doesnt matter how much good you do
In this world we live in today

Youre best is never good enough
Whether its something you do or say

Its not to say that what we do
Is without fault or is wrongly perceived

Yet, after long with failed results
Its hard to succeed

Our faith becomes weak
And looses steam
As we fight for hope in sight

Disbelief becomes more
The light is dime
It gets harder to keep up the fight

Our focus becomes more on the negative things
No matter how big or small

We build it up within our mind
Until our backs are against the wall

We start to wonder
Why we are here
And what purpose we have to give

From comparison
To judgemental conclusions
We ponder our right to live

Then others see and try to help
In fear of whats ahead

Although well received
The good intensions are better left unsaid

So, when we are at the end of our rope
And there is no hope insight

To undo whats been done
Make joy from pain
To take wrong and make it right

Do we let go of the rope
and fall on the stone
Tis better to be broken and not crushed

Or do we curse the stone
Use its name in vain
And beg to be turned into dust

We all have a choice
This life we live
As in the sound of the falling tree

Shackles and chains
Burden and pain
Or live, let go and be free