Somewhere just beyond the minute’s reach
where splashing waves and shimmers beckon,
that waiting there, held mutual gazes,
we understood without words spoken —
But here, enveloped in a sleepless hour’s hold
where empty airs would wind and circulate,
a thought was free, but lost the same,
what day and dame did not reciprocate.
“If only you would know // the things I long to say…”
Such letters, words, as these – at once a collected jumble, and yet containing so much more. Is that the meaning of free association then, for those who can see connections between lists of words?
If I did one, might as well do three. Freely, too.
Are associations ever truly free? What does free even mean in this case?
Just another drop,
an ocean of leftovers,
collective smiles, sad —
But they rejected too,
companions of this wallow,
stories too well-matched —
Gusts of hurricane,
lashing angry upon sails,
mellowed at the shore.
A little different from the usual form for tonight, but a topic otherwise evergreen.
A figment’s weight is not so much
that moments feel it dragging so,
and yet when daylight’s at a pause,
not all the dark could mask its glow;
Such sound or scent, a briefest hug,
a passing minute of a younger day
would linger in sweet sleep’s reprieve
untethered to our waking ways.
But somehow, I prefer the waking world and resist sleep each night…
The paths diverged in four:
a leftward to known shores,
a coastal walk of yesterday
your feet well marked before;
A rightward to some distance
unmarked, just rounding river,
and we could but only guess
how salt and fresh life differs;
And two to go, two forwards,
one smoother course well-paved,
where thousands have maintained
from birth unto their graves;
The last, a road up mountain,
at once supreme and solemn,
for few who see from height
return as we once knew them;
And so in dawn light’s blessing,
the pilgrims, paupers, princes, walked.
“Oh, if life were made of moments, Even now and then a bad one // But if life were only moments, Then you’d never know you had one.”
No cramp’s a pain too great,
nor scrape that’s too misshapen,
when bowed but focused brows
are blind to all that wasn’t —
And what’s a price too great,
nor sought an angel’s bargain,
that all the worth of earthly truths
would pale to one obsession.
And so it goes…planned or unplanned, stubbornness or resilience. At least know what you want and be honest.
Aflame, no captivated soul resists
the call of knowledge hidden,
but prior wisdom kept denied
and marked the clues forbidden —
So toiled off in vain perhaps,
ever closer to coherent answers:
yet will breakthroughs bring delight
or leave new puzzles even stranger?
If there are answers, I have questions…or is it an addiction?
Dare we a moment linger here,
a respite before dawn,
embracing smiles fading fast
before awaking to move on;
Shall we at night retire there,
exploring ‘midst the thoughts,
where dreams provide us joy
that life by day cannot.
“One hope at a time, one step then another…” Best not get lost in dreams though, when reality is 2/3rd of every day.