You, wayward highwayman of mine
Go where you will
Go where you wouldn’t
I have already found you
Hidden from their eyes
Screaming through the Skies
Nothing more than a thief
But a thief, nonetheless
Who has stolen me
Only we’ll ever know
I am never going to tell.
I’ll talk circles around them when they inquire and railroad them as they pry. I’ll question their questioning, “Isn’t it obvious?” I’ll ask.
And should they speculate, I’ll lead them on, Westward, with the same come-hither look in my eyes that you gave me.
You taught me what I’ll teach them: Find the glory…find you’re gold.
Why you’re the poem,
and oh, how you’d believe it
if I kissed you right.
Drawing them in bold, black ink and silvery stardust
Screaming-streamed across the age-old sky
Can do nothing to take back my life
Weaving them with silken strands and begging hands
Humbly offered across the communal table
Will do nothing to bring back the gentleman
How sometimes a Poem feels far too epic to manage anything more than a near-silent sigh of an utterance.
Often, you leave it at that, knowing another day, some other-worldly language, will surely present.
Persist, this poem will, and might seem, at times, like too much, or that you are not enough to tell It’s tale.
Everlasting is your love and your musings of It, this storybook Story, this Force to be reckoned, this Poet.
Why the sky wanted me as its muse
I cannot say
I’d not wish to betray its lifelong, headstrong whimsy?
In its own whirlwind of Days, I was its only constant?
Pressure, and I the soft voice that reduced the storm of it all?
Mercy, it contained and it wanted to rain upon me?
Surely it cannot be a great love for me. Or…can it be?
On the possibilities, I pretend to opine
But I cannot say
I am nothing
Mere smashed-up, shattered pottery
An impermanent cup, long since buried
Serving as drainage
For your pretty backyard garden flowers
Then when I finally drink
From the cup that is not shattered
The cup that matches yours but is intact
See I am the mosaic labyrinth in you
The nutrients, light and sweet rain for you
The height and beauty of you
The reason they wish to pluck you
The breath-stealing scent of you