Everything Is Itself and Something More
A Villanelle
Everything is itself and something more. What you don't see is still your own constraint Unveiled through a secret, unopened door. Sometimes the night is all starlight splendor, Far lightning flashes and meteors feint— Everything is itself and something more. Sun, shelter, field, forest, ocean, the shore— Each demands its other to be known. Quaint. Light and shadow dance from under a door. A boy plays alone on a dusty floor; A man plays at skidmarks, shell-casings, restraint. Everything is itself and something more. A soul asks questions until it finds the core; Sight without faith leaves nothing but complaint, Hiding and locking a most sacred door. Stop and see—do we fight the righteous war? Looking up from the bottom is the chore. Everything is itself and something more; Unveiled through a secret, unopened door.
Oo this line: "Sight without faith leaves nothing but complaint" - so good...I must ponder that more
Thank you Justin. This poem seems to be speaking more to me than I’m understanding.
If possible, and if it’s not an offensive request, can you elaborate on what these lines might mean? —
“What you don't see is still your own constraint
Unveiled through a secret, unopened door.”
I feel like you’re touching something true but I’m not quite grasping or comprehending what you’re touching.