Saturday, October 24, 2015


I see the signs leading me on the way,
I see the lights which will take me all the way,
Shining in the gloom, fighting through the clouds,
The silver lining is not what I seek,
It’s the honey pot at the end of the rainbow,
Stuttering and shivering, the path is rough and dry,
Surfaces breaking off the cliffs, leaving behind crevices,
Niches too small to cling to, handholds just too weak,
I see the clearing just before the horizon,
And there’s you calling out to me,
I hear your voice; I hear my name, a magnet pulling at my heart,
It’s clear as can be, yet the fog blinds me,
Or is it your face; is it your thought,
It’s hard to trudge on as my sight begins to fail,
I don’t know where I’m headed, or is it us,
I want to call out to you; I want to be heard,
I want to be pulled into the crux, just the both of us,
I see your hand vanishing as I blink, just to reappear again,
A mirage or a miracle, it’s as much me or just a blind man,
Repercussions beginning to thunder afar, warning signs,
Thoughts to run on, a face to live on, a voice to breathe on,
It’s a jump too far; my eyes are as much closed as open,
I don’t know where I will end up, the other side, or the bottom,
It’s just a surprise I wouldn’t want to know about.

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