Welcome to the ride nowhere, somewhere around the corner,
Bound for some new world of fantasy as the whistle sounds,
Eerie looking ahead to make your bed in the nether lands,
Or with bands of nomads on desert plain to sustain living,
Believing there is more uptrack, but little in your haversack,
As the journey into eternity is a neverending bending reality,
What you see thru the glass as it all passes by in banality,
A totality of new abnormality in an endless dimensionality
I see so many running up and down this well-worn coast,
Never stopping, always moving, with only sand in hand to boast;
Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and lonely men no one will host.
I see the water waves always moving, rolling in and out,
Again and again, unceasing, unbothered, never reason to shout;
And in the distance vague harbor where anchors the ship, tall and stout.
I see one barely, shadowy, turning toward me and smiling,
At the harbor, prepared to board, to bid farewell before sailing;
And how does she know to go, why, and to what distant shore awaiting?
I see her turning again to board, not sadly, to sail away,
To leave frenzied coast of grand illusion, and will this man stay?
But there is the harbor in the distance, calling me to redemption bay.
I see the ship, so regal, slowly pull out into ocean deep,
And I cry an unspoken good-bye, yet such sight I’ll ever keep;
I’ll no longer run along this coast, nor boast, though long I may weep.
I see many on this shore with no more than sand in hand,
But I’ll make my way to harbor to sail away to an unknown land;
Alone, perhaps, yet someone may see me, too, where I saw her stand.
No, I’ll not stay, but board, and not sadly, to sail away…
To sail away…
Note: Originally published sometime in late 2015 and republished in April 2016, this is one of my own personal favorites that came to mind and heart today to share with new reader-followers.
Sweet melancholy ache in the soul, like an unfillable hole,
Calls me from the world of care to some different layer
Of life no rife with pain, but desire for spiritual gain;
To feed upon immortality and ne’er to fein satisfaction
In what banquet is provided by such sweet, mighty angels
In whom my spirit has confided upon this theophic mountain,
Where springs the fountain of life from which I’m invited
To drink as I sink into restful sleep beyond death in keep
Of the Spirit of eternal food and drink and all that is good;
And so I lay me down, not quite content, but ever intent
On reaching far shore barely seen, not more than line of haze
In these days of melancholy ache to be done with the folly
Of life in this world into which I’ve been hurled; oh! but
See heavenly banner unfurled across the celestial ocean way,
Where one day I will cross to make my stay far away from
Here, so near, not dear; no tear shall be shed when heads
My ship to cross, to leave behind melancholy heart and mind.
Worlds clash, but we live in but one,
One upon which the sun rises and surprises
Us with the dawning of new day, to make
Our way, yet we are not here to stay…
In the other world there is but bright light,
No sun to rule the day; here there is no sight
Of angels, heavenly spirits that command
Adoration in sensation of awe and wonder…
But we do blunder through this world into
Which we’ve been hurled without rhyme
Or reason, ever out of season, though we
Be about our business, and shouts ascend.
Here we wait to begin again, because past
does not last, and the future is here
But not near, always out of reach to teach
Us patience; the present is all we have.
In the other we’ll not be bothered with
So many purses full of curses, and none
Of which we may rid ourselves in some bid
For better life; that will have to wait,
Yet we still take the bait of desperation
In impatient expectation that all will be
As it should be, for me, you, and you, too.
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