your light

My eyes open to the dark
Here I am again
Unaware of the state that my mind is in
At peace and protected never hurt so much
I've a sky-splitting ache to feel your touch
I don't know a thing about the things I do not know
I don't want to hear about the places I could go
Send me letters, send me sonnets, send me cold-hard-cash
Anything to ease the burning from this fiery crash
Walk me down to the lake with your face to my ear
And tell me everything you do not think I want to hear

I'm really not brave
I'm really not brave
I'm really not brave, no

Blushing by the way you say otherwise
I'll slip a secret into your most heavenly eyes:
I've a sickening fear of never being complete
And having everything I do dissolve away in retreat
Switching roles, taking turns, and playing to win,
It would be far more tragic to never even begin
Maybe the most of you is hiding in the sun
And it's you that's shining down over everyone
You don't budge while the earth rotates into night
And I remember how I never will deserve your light

The Same

Dark clouds rolling around
Dancing, swirling with the sound
Thin and sudden strips of light
Thick, deliberate drops of night

Faster beating, shorter breathing
Eyes like oceans, heart is steaming
Knuckles raw and war-torn
Words that pierce, a stream of scorn

Lids lock at once to hide the gloom
Thoughts unspoken fill the room
Mind fizzles, shortened fuse
Collects itself within the muse

The lull itself will wallow in
Until the shades are drawn again
At that moment godsent dawn
Reveals the dark, once there, is gone

Golden morning streams on through
Making mirrors of the dew
A fragrant breeze like baby's breath
Cancels any thoughts of death

Fresh windows to the soul are dry
Lungs expand, collapse in sigh
Furnace within has been removed
Tired mouth and mind are soothed

Mind will choose, body will follow
Heart will either fill or hollow
Come upon Earth wind, sleet, and flame
The Sun will rise and set the same

On that day.

Being that there are handfuls of Heaven
in everything from the way the light
shines through the front window
to the balloon that was let go before,
one might think more doves would settle down.

But there are too many sets of silverware here
and too few reasons to need silverware there-
leaving everyone either lonely or hungry.
Some are both,
and none are neither.
Doves don't just settle down
where there are lonely, hungry people.

Maybe the key to this dilemma is a pairing
of these two unfortunate tribes:
Lonely could bring over the food that he's got
and Hungry could provide the company.

It's a shame that none would act
upon such principles.
But it's just so awfully hard to think of others
when your stomach is empty
or you're missing your brothers.

Someday, though, such a rendezvous will ensue:
A day come at last
when Hungry can forget his stomach
and Lonely can push aside his yearnings-
That each might willingly exist
only for the sake of the other.

And on that day
the doves will sigh,
close their beady eyes,
and rest at last.

Traffic

Oh what a joy it is
to sit in traffic
with you by my side
for hours.
Seemingly never closer to
our destination
yet ever nearer to the
furthest portions in
the souls of one another.
Let us not contend
that it's a tragedy
standing still awhile.
Instead
let us gurgle with delight
at the time offered now.
To us.
Today.
Together.
We can lather ourselves
in these God-given tick-tocks.
And we'll push aside our flimsy fears
of never getting where we're going.
Because maybe we won't go.
And maybe that's alright--
there's still a light on back home.