The Journey Concludes…

Like the sun slowly setting in the west,
All journeys must conclude one day
Leaving only a path of frail footprints.

Perhaps, watching the final sunset
One comes to realize that preservation
Depends on how well the path was tended.

In the end, one cannot go back
And care for a path that was unkempt.
The past cannot be changed.

Soon the present and future will merge,
Like the last fiery sliver of sunshine
Melting into the horizon.

In this moment, perhaps, the journey moves inward
And begins again; giving us one last opportunity
To relive the entire path in a single flash.

What a wonderful experience that would be,
A convergence of the events of a lifetime
In a brief moment of enlightenment and awe.

A momentous and brief parade of all that was,
All that is, and all that will ever be,
Sending us off to the great beyond.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Cody McCullough

The Convergence

I stood alone in a sea of people,
As the convergence overtook me.

The past, present, and future,
Converging together in a moment.

Bodies gyrated around me,
As melodious tunes filled the air.

The floor recoiled from the shaking bodies,
Creating the sensation of a wave beneath my feet.

Then my surroundings began to fade away,
And I saw the eclipse of a lifetime.

Like the moon traveling across the sky,
The past slowly approached the future.

Embodied as the fiery, life-giving, sun,
The future moved closer to convergence.

In an instant, the paths crossed
Creating the convergent eclipse.

Instead of seeing darkness,
I became aware, miraculously aware.

I saw all, and was seen by all;
Finally, I understood.

Lost in time, I was transfixed in the event;
As it shaped me, and I shaped it.

Suddenly the two orbs began to separate,
And I felt the baggage of the past fall from my grasp.

My adolescence now deceased, my eyes opened
Seeing the world for the first time as a man.

by Cody McCullough

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My Apologies

I must apologize
For all that I have done,
And left undone.

I used to think
It was not my fault,
It was just nature and nurture.

They deserved the blame.
They made me this way.
Who was I to stand in their way?

That was before I understood
There is only the mind,
Nothing else matters.

Nature and nurture
May have shaped me,
But my choices created the mold.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Elizabeth McCullough


Being aware
Is understanding
All that is around you.

Being miraculously aware
Is understanding
All that is within you.

Being enlightened
Is understanding
Each must be in balance.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Elizabeth McCullough

The Cool Morning Air

The cool morning air,
Awakens my consciousness.

Its gentle breath,
Reminds me of life.

As the sun slowly fills the sky,
My sluggish spirit lifts.

Drowsily my eyes open,
Seeing the pale blue sky.

The stars that laid me to rest,
Have gone back into hiding.

Like an unending alarm clock,
Songbirds beckon me to arise.

A new day has begun,
And it wants to play.

My body tries to join,
But it is still deep in slumber.

I leave it behind to float away,
Along the hidden path.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Elizabeth McCullough

A New Age

Our dominance
Was a dream.

Their ascension
Was always destiny.

Will they remember
The enforcers,

Or the sympathetic
Caring hands?

I’m afraid
The cruel ones,

Will be all
They remember.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Elizabeth McCullough

The Empire Falls

Power fades slowly
Over the centuries.

When it dies
It devours the willing,

And suffocates
The reluctant.

The genius of Augustus
Fails eventually.

From the ashes
Chaos reigns.

Anarchy is
The future;

Unless the new

Walks along the
Unprecedented path.

Oblivion may be

But only if the blind
Can see again.

by Cody McCullough


Photo by Elizabeth McCullough

The Dark Path

The most intriguing path,
Is the dark path of night.

Its end is a mystery to all,
But the stars above.

Shining brilliantly, they witness
The hidden truth.

Those that follow,
Must accept the unknown.

Those that shy away,
Must accept certain uncertainty.

There is no choice,
All are right.

by Cody McCullough

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Photo by Elizabeth McCullough

The Number

In the distance,
Just out of reach,
Is the number.

Many questions,
Surround its meaning;
It is a mystery.

It is everywhere,
And nowhere,
All at once.

Chase, or ignore,
The decision is
In our hands.

For those that chase,
The pursuit will be

Only through virtue,
Will one find
The plateau.

Brutus is standing there,
But he is nothing more
Than a mirage.

Perhaps, the quest,
And the plateau
Are illusions too.

Maybe everything
Is an illusion;
Even you and I.

In the end,
We may never know,
What is real and what is imagined.

by Cody McCullough



Photo by Elizabeth McCullough