Here I go, twisting my fate,
I move puzzle pieces slowly,
Into an ambiguous shape,
The space inside my head molds just as slowly,
Around ideas of forever, never and – the in between – lonely.
*I’m a lousy contortionist, anyway*
I cling to this thing that never was, like morning dew to the lily;
We are not made to let go;
For the tide always returns to a sea that ungraciously pushes it toward land again;
The moon circles the Earth that circles the sun like an interstellar stalker;
And I, like the tide – a slave to the moon, who is a slave to the sun-enslaved Earth – I return to thoughts of you.
Forgive me, for I have over indulged in silence
I’m bloated with introversion
My cup runneth empty as I drink every drop of dead air
Far from the punishment you perceive, my quietude is my pleasure
Noise the only agitation that could starve my soul
What could I do with my tender heart;
But subdue its passions;
Or hide it away;
I could cradle it like my yet non-existent child;
Soothing its cries with my maternal patience;
Or perhaps let it pursue every whim unto its destruction;
I could follow its lead into inevitable folly;
And tell myself “I told you so”…
I went there to disconnect, but it didn’t quite work out.
Step by step, I reconnected with the mud and the trees and the sky.
Saw fragments of my species intertwined with the landscape…
…the rumble of cars racing over a bridge in the distance…
…the decisive honk of a goose that noticed my existence…
I admired the ease with which my canine companions dug back in to their ancestral roots, enthusiastic paws tearing through dirt, mud and sand.
I listened to the babble of a not-so-pristine river, winding through the sandy and quiet beaches that – even in its vagrancy – it calls home.
I became still though I was moving…
Though I could hear the offensive cacophony of automobiles in the street, I was more engrossed by the quiet, arrhythmic rustling of leaves in those off-season cottonwoods towering above me.
It was a winter day but something felt like spring. Perhaps the warm sun or maybe something growing inside of me.
The light escapes me.
The darkness binds me.
The light shines bright.
But the darkness blinds me.
The light evades me.
The darkness minds me.
The light escapes but
The darkness finds me.