Questions?

Seven seas? An ocean?
Twelve thousand miles?
How far am I now?

Where from though?
From where 'I' began?
Or the ephemeral 'we'?

Do you falter mid-thought a-times?
Do you too hear it in the air?
Loss, misery, memory?

So many speckled questions?
A basket of tropical fruit in sand?
Drops of rain in dry desert-storms?

And the answers unreachable?
To me of course, but to you too?
Aren't they facets, of one glittering diamond?

Do you know why it glitters so loud?
Why it bluntly blinds the mind's eye?
Should I say the secret out loud tonight?

Answer?
Alone....
Utterly alone.
The answer too, stands alone.


Black bitterness?
Did it have to color memories of you?
Could 'we' not have been dear departed?

Like begets like?
So shall I reap?
What verse shall I sing?

In this random blabbering,
Could I but pluck a memory,
Plum, ripe and fragrant...
And freeze it into an icicle,
To safe-guard in my heart.

Could I but (somehow.... anyhow)
Like glazed cranberries,
Preserve a memory, pure, of 'us'.

Could my verses begin to rhyme again?
Or I cease to write?
So that forever 'we' could be...
Immortalized in eternal time
Orchestrated in flawless rhyme.

Could I but stop finding all over,
Another question to question my questions.
Could I but find an answer once,
To answer the helplessness of my answers.
I would sieve my soul through pearly filter-paper
And leave my bitterness like dregs in a pot.


Feb 11th, '09.