Forward

I.

Outside that window,

Grass growing tall about it,

Stands a garden.

Neglected and overtaken,

Alone.

II.

In the meadow is there,

A child’s ball left to lie,

Impressed into earth.

Color washed pale by sun,

Un-found.

III.

Lying deathly by roadside,

The bicycle’s rusted carcass,

Entangled in weeds.

Ne’er to be ridden again,

Unused.

IV.

Each left behind,

Memories, a past pursuit,

Forgotten games, trips.

Part of personal history,

Discarded.

V.

New endeavors found,

Sought after with delight,

While old delights die.

The present alive, past gone.

Forward.

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Life

I.

Teeth jagged,

Eyes baggy,

Hair ceding.

Look at what life has done to me.

II.

Ulcer burns,

Stomach churns,

Eyesight fades.

See the ailments life has given me.

III.

Anger fits,

Hatred dwells,

Patience thin.

Feel how life has burdened me.

IV.

Beloveds depart,

Loved ones gone,

Mourning great.

Behold those life has taken from me.

V.

Family grown,

Love’s expanse,

Comfort felt.

Meet the joys life has handed me.

VI.

Friends are dear,

Circle grows,

Tightened knit.

Touch dear ones life has granted me.

VII.

Countless times,

Great events,

Highs to lows.

Recount the days life has afforded me.

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The Ledge

I.

Wonderment of this vantage point,

The panorama which must exist,

From such a domineering height,

Perchance led to undertake the climb.

II.

A yearning for the brisk, flowing air,

Its cooling yet relentless buffeting,

Seeking to fight against its will,

It is conceivable led me to clamber here.

III.

You, knowing me all too well,

Perceive my transparency.

You, witness to weary traveler,

Certainly see through my ruse.

IV.

You know my plight.

You sense my pain.

You are aware of my infirmity.

You too must feel the weight of my burden.

V.

I am not here to gain perspective.

I am not here to feel wind on my face.

I have come here to peer into the void,

To gaze down upon my own mortality.

VI.

I am a coward and cannot go,

Beyond the edge thus to meet,

The sting of death today,

For that will come in nature’s time.

VII.

But I must for just a moment,

Seize control of my doom.

To glare into death’s own eyes,

To declare that this is not the time.

VIII.

Brought nigh unto my end,

I can now smell its stench.

And can now depart this perch,

Confident that I must live.

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Tide

I.

Sharps and minors, flats and majors.

Clefs, wholes, halves.

This army of music marches on me.

Relentless in its pursuit of me.

II.

Twisting, turning, swirling,

Its substance changing,

Solid becomes liquid,

Its tide approaches.

III.

Beats thump against me,

Bass, snare hit me.

Driving into my chest,

I am a willing casualty.

IV.

The tide rolls in,

The breakers engulf,

Rolling to the shore,

Where I stand unprotected.

V.

Instruments turn their output,

Toward me without regard,

Amplified and battering,

Aimed squarely; I in their cross hairs.

VI.

Sands begin to erode,

Footing is becoming tenuous.

I am washed out to sea,

Into musical depths.

VII.

Now entombed in euphony,

A harmonious sea.

Where I will drift happily,

Throughout a consuming eternity.

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