Storming Grey Seas

Unpublished pieces


You would not think I knew the storming grey seas;
The turbulent awakening of feelings gone sour inside.
And the waves lap like crystals fading in the sky.
They call me to rush into points of view untried.
So I must make some sort of a choice, some sort
of a decision which will determine my living daze.

It hints at me like wood burning in a backyard pyre;
This haunting of thought that inflicts my waking hours.
I am only what I care to do, only what I want to believe.
For every man must make his place, his meaning to be.
And not a word can be offered in humbled solace
that would erase the vision each man must create.

Some would wonder at my lethargy, some at my tears.
Some might question my boundaries or my fences.
And no matter what the answer, I must be what I am.
For each man is truly one, truly in individual stand.
So I find I must be something, and that something
is all I can do in this weary tumbling sort of world.

The cat sat on my lap, one hundred per cent content.
I stroked its body, scratched its ears. And still I found
that even with it present, I was living in my own soul.
And thus it must always be, this breaking aching pole
which I must climb at once. For when I reach the top,
I shall see the land of images I am meant to perceive.

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