More than we fear


If I couldn’t

Be relied upon

I would still

Try to stand strong

And if I fell

And those who are my kith and kin

Let me fall, rudderless

I believe I would still

Try to stand once more

This attending effort was not

Born to me

I was a slothful child

Idolent in summertime, slow to come home

Engrossed in the token more than press of life

Missing meaning within magpie’s shiny locket

I may blame a lack of moral structure

But it was ever my way to remain hollow, we are vessels of sound

The rod or the wild, we choose in our forming

I chose the willow path overgrown by neglect

You, it was you, years hence

Bending with an acrobats supple spine

Taught me purpose and value from your own pain

Late and much too past, still never entirely lost

On even the laziest soul, truth can take hold

I thought I knew truth

Until I learned to listen truly

I thought I knew loyalty

Until I witnessed real mercy

It was as if I had ever not, known a thing

And wiped clear of experience

Began anew, shivering in dawn without wrapping

I couldn’t see then, the other shore 

Or how

Waves are measured in metric pulse, known to moon 

I walked among prophets blind

And only saw my own, sorry reflection

I bled and believed myself insightful

When the blood was void of rust

You see, it takes rhat meterlurgic alchemy

To disipher ourselves and then, once seeing, cross that wasteland

I believed my intuition when I only saw shadows

No crucible of real direction I walked without legs, on the back of dry twigs

Until, woven with deception, snap, the pasture denied me 

Even the position of desicated scarecrow

For I was just an approximate, empty inside, tredding fallow

Without hunger or thirst, nourishment naught

Nobody to stand as sign post

If I couldn’t

Get up from my knees, though they were made of lead

And discover the dream, still in embryonic state 

That has been here all along, put away, almost forgotten

For we are, born to dream

Not to linger in collapse but

Leap graceful without weight

The chains imposed, released to fall

Cleanly from their imprisonment

Shackles are no natural state, prisoners of ourselves

Each of us has, a measurement of myth

Wings to fly and imagine if

We let go of shame and doubt

Those habits cast around us in woe

Lift, lift, oh that we could

Find the fabric beneath the world

And swim in unisen to its music

If I couldn’t 

I would not still be here

Trying to prove we are always

More than we fear

Advertisements