I reasoned that a word
is preferable to silence —
Oh how it lingered ‘tween
averted eyes and stillness;
Those seconds lasted years,
diverging motions ceaseless,
and not so much a word
as those unspoken haunt us.
Which is worse: choosing to not speak? — or choosing not to listen?
When morning comes, and soon enough,
despite the midnight hours antics,
shall all the pensive thoughts inscribed upon
the wings of dream-born muses vanish —
Aglow in light, yet thoughts still wander,
the scattered clues of longings yet pervade,
that ceaseless curiosity seized upon to fill
a story distant to the waking life’s charades.
And just like so, as though a whim, did dormant thoughts awoke, and questions I don’t need answered are posited…alas, curiosity proves a vice in place of virtue this week. Perhaps a better use of time to channel it towards writing more consistently. Nearly 30% of 2017 gone already, and I’m gonna have to write with purpose to have any hope of reaching 730.
Let they who sleepless after answers sought,
whose head collapsed on books, exhausted,
lest they, wading through the murk and fraught,
emerge from darkened depths rewarded:
for there, in light at last, their curse begins
as knowledge leave the banal lives unhinged.
There goes my curiosity again, making sense and piecing narratives from morsels and tidbits. And what if my hunch is correct? We will find out…in time. It’s life we’re talking about, is it not?
Capacious as the sea it was,
a departure so feigned mutual,
whose faded echoes seem a wisp
amid the roaring waves’ rebuttal —
A sadness bound of dreams did sought,
the kindled warmth of once warm fires,
whose crackles yet remained distinct
upon another waking night of tire.
The night-owl instinct is strong with this one.