She asked me, with a
Chirpy smile if I was going to
Get the latest mobile phone, not
Unlike the rest of them enquiring of
Other material goals and milestones
That signify a successful life.
Or do they?
Don’t get me wrong, there’s
Nothing wrong with seeking still
Greater gratifications, for
Life is already such a tedious chore
That surely a little indulgence –
Perhaps two – would lend meaning.
Or do they?
I tarried to explain that I already
Own the greatest treasure
One could ever have –
A soul unshackled by carrots of
The human race, living by its calling
Past the end of human days
So I just smiled and replied that
I have not that need, and pray one
Day, that their burdens be light
And their yoke easy.
I want to know you –
Your typical morning habits
What you totally hate eating
What you actually mean when
You don’t say a word, or do
Little things that often go
Unnoticed, except when time
Stands still, but time is
Never on our side, so
Before it’s too late
I want to know you.
Cooking is dangerous business –
In the process, one must face
The possibilities of being
Sliced by knives, splattered by oil
Even pierced by an unseen bone
Bloodied, blistered, and bruised
Yet we continue, without fear
For it is a miraculous sum of parts
And so is love.
Lead me to the
Depths of my soul, then
Undress it by layers till my
Purest form shows;
Protect it with the
Fortress of your might, then
Stay with me till the promise of
Canter to a halt, quiet
Still air laden; the leaves they whisper
Of martyrs and legends;
Blood once spilled where
Poppies grow, and silence that
Falls ’round the castell old;
Take me to the maiden, bound
To the dark night; take me in place
Of purity and light.
(Photo location: Eilean Donan, Scotland)
He smiled from behind his shades
Raised a brow, cocking his head
Asking if I was coming on;
Alas, he’s not the one I was
Waiting for, so I shook my head and
Waved with a smile bright as day
To which he waved and returned,
A tad wryly, yet a smile nonetheless
Chanced, before we pulled away.
Looking back, on
Words I said, words I didn’t
Bleeding from my pen or fingers;
People I’ve met and lives I’ve led
Where shall my words go from here?
Perhaps, my friends, with you
Still further yet.