At dVerse Lisa is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) and inviting us to write using the word way.
dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Way
“One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.” Henry Miller (and clearly riffing on Proust)
The Blurred Horizon Putting our fingers in fires we rolled down mountains eagerly consuming ego paths of reason and invitation, traversing fences, leaping gates, chasing balloons and butterflies of promise while toasting sunsets, weeping over mortality and pain, there is only ever the blurred horizon of experience. ©Paul Vincent Cannon
parallax 
Well penned poem. The last line, on blurred experiences, a powerful truth!
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Thank you very much indeed 🙂
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Love consuming ego paths … which so many do. Nice write ~~
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Thank you Helen, much appreciated.
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“the blurred / horizon of experience” — Yes. Lessons learned as we move forward.
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I find it comes slowly, thank you Ken.
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This is prime poetry. Loved the blurred/horizon line.
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Thank you so much Beverly.
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By using the words “our” and “we”, you take me on this life’s journey with you….rolling, leaping, chasing, weeping….life’s gamut of experiences. I enjoyed this post very much.
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Thank you so much for joining this journey Lillian, so enjoyed your response.
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Experience, so hard earned, and too often diminished by others — but precious.
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Absolutely Rob, yes indeed.
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I enjoyed this one.. took over that adventure road..
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Thank you so much.
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My takeaway from your poem is that you can’t see it when you’re up close and you don’t need to as you’re immersed in the experience. And that’s the way it should be. It’s also why I think many get trapped in the past, as they can reflect on it at will and keep warm on the reflected memories. Onward, I say, or by the time you’re an advanced crone, all of the old memories will have been worn away to nothing…
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I got the sense from the poem of our headlong rush through experience when we’re young, and then somehow, we become aware of our own mortality and the shining city on the hill blurs into the horizon.
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Yes, that’s it Liz, we do, then we realise and take our time to reflect, the horizon is no longer the goal.
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Experience is the only thing we can count on down the road and into the horizon.
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Yes indeed, if only it were teachable, thank you very much Dora.
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There’s always great imagery in your writing, Paul. Keep those poems coming!
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Thank you so much for your encouraging words Janet.
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That blurred horizon of experience seems much blurred as we age.
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It sure does Punam, thank you.
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You are welcome, Paul.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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🙂
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“chasing balloons and butterflies of promise while toasting sunsets,” these words stood out to me. I can see the images in my mind. I’ve always seen butterflies as promises since I was a child. Whereas for some of my friends, saw them as the final stage of life…an end. So, I think you are right, “there is only ever the blurred
horizon of experience.” We each experience life through our own lens. Which is often blurred to others and sometimes even ourselves.
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Great summary of the poem, yes, wholeheartedly agree, I guess for all “endings” are really just beginnings. But I too have that same view of butterflies, wonderful. Thank you so much.
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#truth
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Many thanks Susi, much appreciated.
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You’re welcome, Paul!
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Very profound
>
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Pingback: Reblogs – Paul V. Cannon & Stephen D. Allen – I Write Her
Thank you.
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Loving this gorgeous imagery! ❤
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Thank you so much Layla 🙂
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