Recurring past...

And sometimes they come back when you least expect them.















Cher ami

Witnessing the twilight by the sparkle in your eyes,
As the light turned into withered traces of the day.
The glare grew to a helpless glance of sorrow…
Like sand in my mortal hands, drifting out.
Far more terrifying than beating ahead the very hands of time.
The progressing silence bounded by terror and grief,
wrenches my desperately unyielding heart.
The white fluffy clouds are racing across the sky…
And the leaves are fluttering by the cold wind of December.
I suppose its coming for me…
The companionship to surreal destinations where you would dare not go.
I fly by the death of the night, where reasoning dismounts at my disposal.
The shapes and colors of the stories and phrases have been quite unkind…
The mutilitated concrete of veracity, scattered like stars in this sea of mystery.
Like in a childhood memory I’m still very fond of…
Chapters of visions, occur and disappear with a haze.
Dismantling the thresholds of both time after and time before…
I said farewell and you in turn said goodbye for yet another time.
For every instance the gloom grew to an excessive thought of unworthiness, discomfort, and disconcertment.
The stream of consciousness between the thresholds of time past and time yet to pass…
Grew to become a raging river, and for no storm at all…
It transfigured into a ravenous sea of unspeakable destruction.
The shifting waves of sorrow and joy…
Commandeering my primitive apprehensions and manifestations.
Engulfed in it, the thought of appreciation and understanding,
Touched my benumbed yearning and appeasement,
and caressed my ever so wanting soul.
In its bliss and terror I came to survive with, love, and learn.
Beneath the superficial ripples, where reality is real at range point blank.
I don’t feel threatened nor afraid.
At any degree and dimension of reality, the speed of light is indeed faster than
the speed of sound…
Is this due reward for my deeds?
The setting sun casted gloom upon these frigid streets.
The gelid breeze reaching down between my legs and up my spine,
degenerating warmth and felicity.
The pervasive dampness taunts my selfless disposition…
The irrepressible shifting of the tides is near at hand.
And anything within the context of such authority is beyond my own.
That of course I could only mind these immediate concerns and bitterly wait.
Twilight has passed and now I submit myself to the eerie night.
After every blaze, remains its ashes…
A lifeless reminder of things past and will remain far behind…
And tonight I shall light anew.
The gravity of longingness is greater magnified.
And the ashes will remain, and its spirit nameless and half forgotten.
Should all the reason amount to nothing more than the dust your stepping at…
Then I suppose the blessings of my Father should be enough…
Things ahead might be bright, and the light for the hopeful shines mighty.
Any faith and discipline can do so much… but can only do as much without
integrity.
That I ought to wish for my comrade what I wish and aspire for myself.
Should all the reason amount to nothing more than the dust your stepping at…
Then truly the blessings of my Father are all I have left.
The hands of the clock, quite far now since I last saw it.
I shall close my eyes to make sure I listen to myself…
And pray to make sure you listen to yourself.
The whistling wind of transcendence never sounded so bittersweet…
The forces of your nature sings…
Their prayer whispered from beyond the soundness of your mortal reasoning,
fading into the air… sounding so fractured like the mirror behind your eyes.
I could only say whatever I can care to say. Forever a slave to the highway…
One for the road, and another for the memories, lastly to the song only a handful
would dare to hear. The road whispers... and the sea lay calm and awake.
Now I must catch the lingering light by the clouds of my plight,
The time has come to be immortal.
The whistling wind of transcendence, so innocent, never sounded so bittersweet…
Like your footsteps fading far past from me now.
Withered are the traces of the day…
The glance etched in sorrow…