He sought the usual things.

Like many before him, he had searched.
He had been a searcher for many years and
he sought the usual things.
His searching had taken him to many distant lands
over many gale lashed turbulent oceans and
along many majestic , mysterious and malevolent rivers.

He had walked through minefields and cornfields,
over ice and snow covered mountains and
searing lifeless deserts; and still he searched.
He searched in cities that looked like they
could occupy the entire globe,
where people congregated within
like flies at an abattoir.
He also sought for the usual things
in isolated
God forsaken,
human forsaken
hovels that were not fit even for the despots
who drank at their poisoned wells.

He sought the good search in places you could not imagine,
in places that defied his own imagination and that of others.
He searched the stars and the planets and
the frozen dust particles
of closely passing meteorites
and still he searched.

Finally, like those many before him,
he died.
He died wondering.
In the end he died wondering what exactly it was
he had been searching for in the first place.
His understanding of each experience was always subjugated
by his burning desire to
‘know’
when what he wanted to know was unknowable all along.

He sought the usual things.

Rex Inkpen

Joined January 2009

  • Artwork Comments 6

Artwork Comments

  • Mister
  • Rex Inkpen
  • RaOrEmraeh
  • Rex Inkpen
  • Valentina D
  • Rex Inkpen
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