my spiritreaching far inside
to existing places forgotten
drawing me deeper
i let it lead me
the essence of those
entering before
rushes through me
offering promises
escorting warnings
images of my own experience
so meticulously concealed
confront me
urging my retreat
reaching with-in
you are there
eyes, penetrating
skin, glistening sable
coming closer
We touch
and suddenly
all is lucid.
Section 2: Mis-placed
Come Home
Words echo
in a mind snowed under,
breathe
and I am home.
A screeching stop,
abounds short beings
into the street,
bitter cold wind abrading cheeks,
noses, foreheads.
Dashing toe spirits
unapologetically abandon their vessels,
leaving immobile, burdening stubs
at the ends of feet
presencing their absence.
A fleeting glance
through still, bitter air
expertly diverts my timid gaze from the ground
revealing our snow-covered roof.
A warm re-collection obliges me
to scale the mountain that is Albacon Road
through bodily memory alone
knowing another sighting
of my pending ascent
would re-present me here
on the out side of reverie.
A Cry in the Dark
Its piercing cry
swallows the serenity
of a room.
Requiring simply this
to destroy
what, in the aftermath
of their synchronization
seems so perfect.
One desperately grasping
to salvage
whatever
if anything
may be left.
The Other desperately grasping
to preserve
whatever
if anything
is to come.
Each helpless
in their implausible existence.
Suffering
as a result of something as trivial
as a cry in the dark.
Deflecting Truth
Illuminating whispers
possess the breathtaking power
of obscurity
with continual showing
of things unfamiliar
to words spoken.
Dark footpaths
wandered by bare feet
rely on uncommitted hands
to carry Diogenes’ borrowed lantern.
Attempts to re-call humanness
are un-re-turned,
with facing nothing.
Not mother,
thoughtfully feeling her way
through this shadowy
and vexing terrain.
Not father
lost and stuck
in a multiflora rose bush
just east of the Bronx River.
Vulnerability
As he sits
letting the smooth melody he selected wash over him,
he is awed.
How could he
even for a moment
have believed
again.
Thinking back to the time before today,
when he last heard
that sweet voice.
The sound of it floods his mind
melting into the melody
emanating from his system.
Droplet
by droplet
he falls.
Starting first at his mouth,
then down
