I’m trying to expose my soul.
Your words cover me up.
You try to analyze what I cannot define.
You put me in a box.
I feel my wings are clipped-
They atrophy and rot
I’m trying to let you see my song,
But you chatter over top.
It’s hard for me to speak your language.
This logic refutes my world.
No communication available,
I turn, and wander off.
I long for comprehension to race across your heart,
to fill this loneliness that tears me apart.
Find me on a hill top as the wind rolls over,
blowing leaves to cover my heavy heart.
Laying in the graveyard as the veil is lifted
Singing, quietly, the tune of a distant memory.
My soul is filled with longing to go ‘cross the river-
and make the journey between the worlds.
I’m watching as my sand falls, filling up the glass.
I’m eager for the final page to end my story.
With eyes closed, I refuse to play the part.
I eagerly let go as the final grain is sifted.
I long to be free from earthly sorrows.
No longer can I bear up against their
I feel no joy in the morrow!
Find me on the hill top…
Severed from physics, and rules.
Hold your head up child.
It’s not so bad.
When the clouds are dark
When you walk alone
When you hug yourself to keep yourself inside
When the pain rolls in like a hurricane tide
Hold your head up.
When there’s nowhere to run
Nothing to be done
Living no longer fun
Hold your head up.
I keep my smile in my back pocket.
When I want to weep, and cry!
When I curse and beg…
I pull it out
Sometimes there’s cat fur on it, and pocket lint
Sometimes it’s frayed and creased
Sometimes it’s too tight, and pinches a bit
but I put it on anyway.
The soul is a bubble blown through a wand
It is reflective of beauty shone without and within
Manipulated by tides, distorted by teachings
Fragile as a dream
An endless pond of reverie
Distorted by time and abandoned by truth
The soul is a joke told by an idiot
It senses neither time nor space
But feels infinitely the pang of a broken heart or distorted trust
Cracked as my mirror
An open wound
Patched clumsily together with a bandaid
The soul is a dance performed without flaw
Pirouetting, effortlessly defying gravity
It is its own delight
Weightless as a sigh
Timid as a blush
Gracing the world with its own recital
The soul is a prisoner
Its wings clipped by reality
Forced to acknowledge the fact that is without life
Caged as a songbird
A flightless ghost
Denied by its own imaginings
The swan sings her most beautiful song just before she takes her last breath. Embracing the end with dignity and grace, clarity and passion- the swan sings. Singing of life remembered, and the dream of life to come, the swan fills her weakening lungs, stretches wide her once powerful wings and sings.
She knows her spirit is strong, old, and wise. She does not fear the unknown or regret the known. She raises her heart to the light of the moon. Floating effortlessly between land, sea, and sky…floating between worlds…in and out of consciousness… in and out of days and nights…the swan sings her own requiem as elegantly fate descends.
Infinitely I yearn for the nightly wandrings
Round a desolate street of my sleeping city
Bathed in the sickly glow of flickering streetlights
Kiss the hand to the moon
no magic found in a sunlit noon.
Floating through the night like a vague spectre
Beholding the life of the underground.
Rippling cloth and rustling gait:
This Cinderella flees a sinister ball.
Gravity pulls me down
In reality, I can’t keep my feet on the ground.
The days start to blur
I sigh out the window
You know I’m sure.
I’ve taken leave of reality
Patience, I lack the ability
But I’d wait a thousand years
Lost in slumber
Without any fears
With your gentle kiss
I’ve been sleeping all this time
My life is bliss.
Though the past may have it’s thorns
The angels blow their horns
You’re just beyond it’s gates
And I’ll be waiting