I am a Rock

A poem that came to me this evening; dealing with a great many things... (yes, I was listening to Paul Simon when I wrote this.)


Months ago I was twisted, mangled root wrenching through soil,
Working towards the river beneath your buildings, far buried within the sights of a naked eye;
This life I chase, she ever darts from me,
Sinking, diving, swelling- averting the eyes
Of he who may lower his lips to drink...
(Forgive me, I have begun to speak of other things.)
(Or do I speak of you, dear friend?)

Days ago I whirled in circles, broken years beneath my feet, memories wailing,
Caught in the whims of a glass tornado,
Slicing deep no matter how carefully they ride the wind-
Or how lightly I dance about the fringes of sorrow.
In one breath, the shards are glowing ivory coals again;
Scorching the tender layers of that which beats relentlessly-
And I am reminded of how accustomed I have become,
To stitches and bandages.

Moments ago my arms were locked with those of Time,
Persistent ticking eating at my scars,
Slamming in to my skull like a rain storm of hammers;
Pounding, crushing, slowly collapsing my will to keep the sea bottled away-
To keep from the waves that beckon me to worlds far from mine...
(I want to believe that time is of no substance- that the love of friends such as we,
is eternal.)
(But in a year, I fear we will be strangers.)

Despite all this,
Love does always bellow out her pipes within me;
She coddles my remains, no matter how charred my bones may be-
Now, and then- and ever,
She is my choice to carry...
As all that tortures me,
Was never my choice to keep.

It will never be my choice to lie down,
And lose the fight.