Does the earth miss the rain in the drought,
does the minnow ever miss the trout,
does a salmon miss its stream,
does a waken man miss his dream,
does the shell miss the sea,
does an acorn miss its tree,
does paper miss the quill,
does life ever miss its will,
do these questions really matter,
do I miss you, forever?
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
This is the resaying, of mine before
of a few words of advice, nothing more.
"how am I to grasp her shadow,
if she is the torch itself?
how am I to stay from the light,
when the dark scares me from the depth?"
O friend, o ye fool,
hope's a betrayal!
she can tread the grass, she can escape unscathed,
for in her hands, she hold the scythe.
but you, you stumble the plain,
even at her sight you shield your eyes.
"let me be," he said.
his heart is set and made.
his hopes falcons him into the heavens,
my best wishes are sadly only pigeons.
even if the wide berth recedes, the deep chasm remains,
and even if your imagination succeeds, reality's a pain.
I would appreciate suggestions for a better/alternative title.