Monday, July 14, 2008

The Long Sleep

Days pass us by, we loose track of their identity
Each forgotten moment floats, then falls with the setting of each sun
Afterwards the ordinary absorbs the original
The arms of time, growing weak, wane under the load of work
Hereafter without warning, the lights go out-never to be rekindled

The Shortcut

I looked back at the prints left on the concrete
Some invisible, others black, from mud on my feet
I could think of a source for sanity's sake
Only to discover the origin in the shortcut I decided to take
The brave, unpaved, unprincipled route
This was the best way I knew to get out
The sun detailed the sidewalk, every crack, every hole
Behind me, in the shadows may have been the same,less, or more
I could have kept forward with heavy foot, or cleaned my sole
But passion preceded consciousness, the core was cold
Time had room for occupation,but fear of loss bred hesitation
So I kept on moving, muddy towards my destination