Random Thoughts Set Afloat.
We write with the edges of our souls
sharpened by emotional grinding day to day
and what flows is the innermost gleanings
of our deepest hopes and dreams..
I have seen the night walkers
in the alleyways of New York's canyons
and on the dusty back roads of Montana
and in the graveyards of
the military dead at 3:00 a.m.
I have been a night walker myself
and strolled the darkness
following a slice of sorrow thinly cut
like a sliver of moonlight.. .
There are always puddles
where there are night walkers..
puddles of blood...tears...sweat and rain.....
There are ghostly night walkers
who still stagger through
the tunnels of guerrillas in Vietnam though
the reason for their three mile stare is long gone.
There have been many nightwalkers in the oval office
sleepless from the weight of life and death choices made.
There are Night walkers all over the world
and they converge at some point
and become a shadow
that blots out the day...
this is the darkest hour before dawn...
When dreams leave
open wounds in ones soul
and the only thing to bind it
is the one who is bound for somewhere else..
then there is little one can do
but be alone and nurse
the slashes of solitude back to a
reasonable facsimile of what they once were...
In the cocoon of night's embrace
we spread our wings into limbs and float on
the dreamy cushions of thought...
that let us fly beyond all that
life could ever offer..and the
translucent and rainbow hues
of our wings in this never never place
are of such sheer beauty that we awaken
with tear dust collected in both of our eyes
God's ear is always attuned to the voice of a child....
and he cherishes them as highest amidst all of his creations...
he grants them a period similar to Adam and Eve's..
a few blissful years of pure innocence to play and frolic
in the big wonderful world without the burdens
of sin or guilt or responsibilities
The moon pulls souls together
just as it folds the waves one over the other.....
it has viewed the passion of thousands of years
in all the wilds below it....
it is always just outside the window
with a fingernail smile or a bright beaming ray
that illuminates two sets of lips entwined
times ten billion all over the planet.
The moon is a voyeur who helps stir the scenes
like a director who orchestrates the moods
and the settings and we are but actors
under his tides of impulse.
We have walked on his dusty face
but he has gleamed in the eyes of countless
coming together by two's for centuries
and he is the love light...the night light
that illuminates passions trysts
Sadness....is an ivy clinging
to the walls of ones soul
blotting out the light that
normally glows warmly through
the membranes of ones inner self...
it is a poison ivy that irritates and disturbs....
and lingers long after contact with the offense
that caused it is gone.....
salt can kill the root of the sadness..
the ivy..though poison... cannot tolerate salt..
and withers..so let the salty tears flow freely
over the ivy walls of your souls
and wither the root and then let
the light and warmth of one's smiles
enter in and set you in a clear place
...free of entanglement..
And so the thoughts dry like ink on a page,
or the vapor trails of an inkjet across virtual space.
Just some random thoughts left here for posterity
rendered while I sat on my posterior and pursued
the try that one finds in Poe-try.
(I.) am done for now....
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