remote
i am always alone always together
always held in the grip of this life
this amalgam of a long line of
choices i thought i never made
a tea brewed from fifty years
of love tears existence and
breathing in letting go holding
simple tools and learning how to
forge my way down this path
filled with weeds vines growth
finding my way sending out feelers
but i have always been blind and
those tiny bits of light that make
their way through guide me closer
to home deliver me from evil a
periphery of vision i have simply
discarded i can’t see i can’t
see i am lost always lost but
if you stand before me and ask
for directions i can tell you
the best way to get there
.
.
.
.
April 29th, 2012 at 9:04 am
you tell me the way every day.
this lost place lies/doesn’t lie, you know. i have been there. blindness is just a different way of knowing.
April 29th, 2012 at 10:24 am
Right here grows the full flower of a life; each line a perfect petal of truth.
Each morning, I visit here, and feel the wonder welling up in my eyes.
April 29th, 2012 at 1:13 pm
A philosophical poem, I love it. I am particularly intrigued by the way you present each series of ideas and where the line breaks occur. Much to ponder.
April 29th, 2012 at 8:43 pm
okay.
i am lost.
…waiting….:-)
April 29th, 2012 at 11:46 pm
Simply beautiful …. never an easy path but well worth traveling down.
April 30th, 2012 at 11:04 am
oh! how did I lose track of you
and your iridescent words!
otherworldly beautiful, this,
and I feel it to my marrow.
thank you,
Jennier