Growing

7.10.24

In my ears, I hear the sound, a heart grown heavy, beating the ground. All my fears and fickle dreams, feet unsteady, I know what nothing means. The sun above is scorching me, sweat in my eye, vision blurred, how much harder must I try? All I seek is how to see, to tell the sun to set; but I can’t speak with words so slurred, I reach for something, but there’s nothing to get.

So I walk unto the sun. I walk until I run. I run out of time in this place that isn’t mine. And who would care if I should dare turn back from whence I came? Who I am is but a man who walks without a name. The cries of the sun, to me, have no pull. For light alone cannot grow a heart full.

The sounds are growing, I hear them in my head; violent scratching, how long before I’m dead? My tears are flowing, the ground made fertile, footsteps not matching where my feet fall in denial. Until the night bears with it the moon, who shines so high like the brightest star, who cast their lights from distant days; whose light, to know, is all too far. Whose flames shall extinguish all too soon: in darkness, leave us in misery; remind us of joy that never stays: that our defeat is the universe’s victory.

Until the digging ceases within. And what, then, shall grow in the place of my heart?

Glory Days

Oh glory days, how quick you were; that time should come to pass

That now I stand upon a throne and gaze on nothing else

For now is there nothing, my time is in the past

I came here for no reason, now reason is my last

Oh glory days, to where are you now gone?

You leave me with but echoes, echoes of your song

So I sit here on my throne and wonder what went wrong

Perhaps in times to follow I’ll find myself a throne

That when at last I sit upon, I’ll know it as my home

Quiet

When I speak to you, you answer

You answer in like tone

When I look at you, you answer

In words still yet unknown

When I think of you, you answer

With the face that you have shown

When I touch you, you answer

That I am not alone

Warmth

To know this world is all I know, the world and all its people. What else is there? Who else is there? What other reason is to be? So circle, and circle, in circles do I go. I travel near and venture far. I hold some dear, they rarely are. But in the end, they always go. And so I know, this is not home. So on I go in circles more: to places I have been before. With faces new and feelings old, I feel my heart is growing cold.

What is there more that’s left to see? When I am done to sail this sea? I search for more in emptiness. The light now fades away. Seas of blue now fade to gray. Faces I knew cast shade to day. I ask myself what do I seek. I cannot say, I’ve grown too weak. 

And storms are growing, waves grow strong. Days grow empty, the nights grow long. They batter my ship who’s seen now too much. I crash against the empty shore. A place I have not been before. With nothing left and nothing to do, I bide my time with thoughts of self.

In the days that come to pass, another ship should come at last. It crashes here against the shore, never shall I want for more. I stay here now for one whole year. This face I see, I now hold dear. Now I know what is there to be. Now I know who is this called me: but a person stranded on the shore. In a place to stay forevermore. It took no fire to make my heart warm; but the ravaging of my ship in violent storm.

To Act

To pour my heart and soul on earth

to watch that which might grow

To say the words I wish to say

to hear their echoes in the air

To let my blood that beats within

to color this earth red

To turn the grass that’s ever green

to colors never said

Not to break this body

not before I’m dead

Not to seek to act to change

not while winds yet blow

To put myself into this world

to be the airs that flow

That surround

That drown

That spoken make our sound

To turn this bitter winter cold

to the warmth of words in whisper told

Found

I see a stranger sitting there who looks like one who would not dare to act upon what he should care. He looks at me with joy and glee to know that I can truly see. And up he goes from where he was to wander off without a pause for me to follow without cause. I see him wander to the town where glass reflects to show a frown. Through a door soon does he go, to where I could not ever know, yet to where I run in tow. There I watch his miscreant dealings, a man with no care for others’ feelings. What would make one do as such? to make fall ill all he should touch? Out I let the slightest sound, and to me turns his head around, and thus am I at long last found.