You see,
You are much too old.
Your river seeks canyons to carve.
Your melodies are not music. Not yet.
Your language is yet to be born.
You are of the Sea, the Earth, the Breeze.
You are Freedom. You are Free.
You see,
you are love, old soul.
But you are much too old, to see.
2.
In my dreams You
are different.
Like the pockets of
secrets that hide
within the pleats of
my curtains.
A gust of wind;
The secrets are mine,
and then they are not.
3.
Those tired eyes –
Where are they now?
Charcoal confessionals;
Questioning brows…
Those tired eyes-
They longed for home
They searched in vain
In my hollowed soul
I met them bright-
Those tired eyes.
met them hopeful and hungry,
Fearless and wild.
Where are they now-
Those hungry eyes?
Weary of the hunt
Cautious of the wild.
I failed to see
Deep Into those eyes.
Into the longing
Into the cries.
I thought them crafty
I thought them snide
I thought them lustful,
Her loving eyes.
Do they still seek me-
Those loving eyes?
Do they still weep
For this blind fools time?
I tried them out,
Those bright black eyes.
I doused the fire
I drowned their nights.
Come back tired eyes
Come back and see
There’s a hole in my soul
Where your gaze used to be.