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Writing Byte #16: Sisyphus

Boulder on a hill, tumbling down,
With stubborn resolution, coming back around,
Letting loose a cry, a frustrated sound,
As the boulder kept on, tumbling down.

Sisyphus gave chase, landing with a bound,
Stopping the boulder just as it reached the ground,
Shoulder set, teeth gritted and head down and bowed,
He roared with the effort, clearly and loud.

Inch by inch, climbing up the mound,
As the boulder gained weight pound by pound,
Never giving up, staying strong and proud,
He struggled to the top, reaching for a cloud,

But anyone knows a cloud’s not a sound-
foundation for rest, and so he found,
the boulder, fell, turning round and round,
As the boulder kept on, tumbling down.

I reached out to him, as he came towards me,
wanting to show him, make him see,
he didn’t need his boulder, didn’t need to succeed,
If he just let go, he could hold on to me.

So for a while he did, intimately,
Arms around me, holding so very tightly,
But while he stayed, embracing closely,
He thought he saw an invitation to be-

Something more, to move further than him and me,
But as he leaned in, thinking me alone, lonely,
I pushed him back, disillusioned, angry,
I needed space, and indeed so did he.

But when I was gone, he looked around to see,
that boulder, by the hill, sitting against a tree,
I wasn’t there to focus on, to distract or be-
a reason to not push that boulder free.

So he turned to the boulder, looking up to the sky,
And he left, not even stopping to say goodbye.
I cried when he left, not knowing why:
he kept pushing that boulder, ever one more try,

‘Cause I knew that boulder could never make him happy.

But I also knew the truth was neither could I,
Knowing he’d never find peace, I thought with a sigh,
Till he learned to let go, and let that boulder lie.


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Writing Byte #19: Rain

When you hear the rain, pattering on your roof, tapping on your window… When you feel the rain, cooling the air and poking you on the nose… When you see the rain, reflecting and refracting the surrounding light all in a single drop… It’s telling you its story… the stories of a thousand raindrops, the stories of where each have fallen in solitary moments as the world spins and spins.
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