All the new
thinking is about loss.
No, just
creating space for more,
Knowledge,
images, experiences.
Life has no
bounds,
Feeding the
world with hope,
Charging loved
ones with fake emotions,
Griping them in
arms so tight,
Tight never
letting go.
The arms
squeeze,
Ouch.
Let souls go,
To flutter and
fly.
“Die not holding
onto words”,
My father said,
Staring into
open water.
Jagged and rough
with hate,
Like his heart,
Leaving no soul
to wander pass the shore.
Desperation,
A word that is
need but not used.
On the shore,
Rocks.
Heavy and wet
slabs
Of cold, boulders
set along the side.
For this is the
place where the soul
Comes to die.
Eating with the
fish and playing on beaches,
These souls have
no hope
For the land of
the wicked.
Shattered.
Then, with the
moon,
In its elegance,
Like royalty
superior and strong,
Spirits connect,
Smiles.
Its joy lasting,
Being moonlight
to earth.
Raising and
staying to guide in the night,
Bring salutation
to the darkest night.
Never confused,
Just searching
for a hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment