THE SEEKERS
THE SEEKERS
.
They seek the answers, they chase the light though they inhabit a shadow world of sorts.
They walk amongst us though few but the most receptive of mortal eyes can ever gaze upon their sullen form. Daily they enter the realms of the living, retracing footsteps and casting hollow expressions over reference points to lives lived and loved, angry at their betrayal by false prophets reduced from days of former glory to token pieces of jewellery hung around the necks of the living. Cursing their fortune, hating their luck, traipsing over ground that was so precious in the days of pulsing arteries and beating hearts, before the darkness came and the light of life made haste it's exit from those tearful eyes.
As you go about your daily business you will feel their presence as they brush past you, the merest of breeze, the strangest of sensations like de ja vu, an icy chill gripping the sinews of your flesh, atoms of a life that will not lay down without the answer to that eternal question. Why me? Gone too soon, taken before idle dreams and aspirations had been luxuriated in or achieved, collected by old Reaper himself when they least expected, lives flowing an ordered pathway, smiles upon lips and the love of those who mattered for the briefest of moments in such insignificant timespans. They will not go quietly, don't ask them to leave for acceptance of their demise is not an option for the few brave souls who summon up the inner courage to stand and fight, to ponder and question the very winds of fate herself.
Wandering this Earth lost and lonely, bitter with contempt for the years they so wasted in the pursuit of holy blessing, Sunday communions with families so steeped in tradition and beliefs once rock solid that now lay in tatters as an aura all around them. And what did their devotion and beliefs bring them but a lifetime of denial and self guilt, and a handful of shallow words of comfort well rehearsed by the priest who knew nothing of the peole lying prostrate in their wooden boxes. No God to save them now, no words of kindness and wisdom, just the loneliness and solitude of the eternal walk. To the locations in life that meant something to them, they loiter with intent and mournful expressions, the beauty of Mother natures offerings, the race tracks of carnage and speed, to the sandy shorelines where they played as small children, carefree and contented. To the places where those mortals breaths became so shallow as to falter and fade, at home, at work, within the seductive sheets of carnal desire, they watch and wait.
Perhaps they will find the answers that they seek so earnestly, for these are those who fought back against the end of days, these are the brave souls who cling to the beauty of this world in which they dwelt with happy hearts and gentle souls. And they wait, between the dimensions of this world and whatever lies beyond, clinging to their love for life, lamenting days in the arms of lovers, beneath the ocean blue skies and fluffy clouds, chasing feathers, watching sunsets. They know the truth, that there is not always a reason and a wherefore, that no divinity nor wisdom play a part in the death of man, no rhyme or reason from a higher power. Now all they possess are the memories and the bitterness, and the sadness of what might have been if they had been given a chance. These are the shadow dwellers, and they walk the earth along with us.
These are the seekers
.
Written May 31st 2011
Photograph taken on June 28th 2008 at 11.48 on the beach at Camber Sands, Essex, England.
Nikon D300 200mm 1/500s f/11.0 iso200
Nikkor AF-S 55-200mm f/3.5-5.6G ED. UV filter
THE SEEKERS
THE SEEKERS
.
They seek the answers, they chase the light though they inhabit a shadow world of sorts.
They walk amongst us though few but the most receptive of mortal eyes can ever gaze upon their sullen form. Daily they enter the realms of the living, retracing footsteps and casting hollow expressions over reference points to lives lived and loved, angry at their betrayal by false prophets reduced from days of former glory to token pieces of jewellery hung around the necks of the living. Cursing their fortune, hating their luck, traipsing over ground that was so precious in the days of pulsing arteries and beating hearts, before the darkness came and the light of life made haste it's exit from those tearful eyes.
As you go about your daily business you will feel their presence as they brush past you, the merest of breeze, the strangest of sensations like de ja vu, an icy chill gripping the sinews of your flesh, atoms of a life that will not lay down without the answer to that eternal question. Why me? Gone too soon, taken before idle dreams and aspirations had been luxuriated in or achieved, collected by old Reaper himself when they least expected, lives flowing an ordered pathway, smiles upon lips and the love of those who mattered for the briefest of moments in such insignificant timespans. They will not go quietly, don't ask them to leave for acceptance of their demise is not an option for the few brave souls who summon up the inner courage to stand and fight, to ponder and question the very winds of fate herself.
Wandering this Earth lost and lonely, bitter with contempt for the years they so wasted in the pursuit of holy blessing, Sunday communions with families so steeped in tradition and beliefs once rock solid that now lay in tatters as an aura all around them. And what did their devotion and beliefs bring them but a lifetime of denial and self guilt, and a handful of shallow words of comfort well rehearsed by the priest who knew nothing of the peole lying prostrate in their wooden boxes. No God to save them now, no words of kindness and wisdom, just the loneliness and solitude of the eternal walk. To the locations in life that meant something to them, they loiter with intent and mournful expressions, the beauty of Mother natures offerings, the race tracks of carnage and speed, to the sandy shorelines where they played as small children, carefree and contented. To the places where those mortals breaths became so shallow as to falter and fade, at home, at work, within the seductive sheets of carnal desire, they watch and wait.
Perhaps they will find the answers that they seek so earnestly, for these are those who fought back against the end of days, these are the brave souls who cling to the beauty of this world in which they dwelt with happy hearts and gentle souls. And they wait, between the dimensions of this world and whatever lies beyond, clinging to their love for life, lamenting days in the arms of lovers, beneath the ocean blue skies and fluffy clouds, chasing feathers, watching sunsets. They know the truth, that there is not always a reason and a wherefore, that no divinity nor wisdom play a part in the death of man, no rhyme or reason from a higher power. Now all they possess are the memories and the bitterness, and the sadness of what might have been if they had been given a chance. These are the shadow dwellers, and they walk the earth along with us.
These are the seekers
.
Written May 31st 2011
Photograph taken on June 28th 2008 at 11.48 on the beach at Camber Sands, Essex, England.
Nikon D300 200mm 1/500s f/11.0 iso200
Nikkor AF-S 55-200mm f/3.5-5.6G ED. UV filter