Little Thoughts Little thoughts spring back this way when I least expect. How the thought, what the say, why lines between us never met. To look out at a tumbling ground just in its return. The many parts that tear us down, however much we yearn. To be left in the open without a wheel or guide. With mast bent or broken, the open sea we ride. In sound determination examine every word. How it was you came to me. What it was I heard. If all the world were gap-free nothing here to spoil, to live throughout eternity on rock hard changeless soil. Yet no slip could grow without a pliant cause. Receding from the blush of life, inveterate, give pause. Whatever is here given, send back the robust host. Lagging indecision, what came here a ghost. In these hands examine, turning every word. Calling to forgiving what was it that cured. If the world is absent a kiss that speaks of love. How come to us the mystery fall beneath the load. If ever there a rising, if ever life pull through, the ship will sail, into a storm straight and sleek, and true. I, who am less willing to fall beneath duress, call back beyond the shore line, come to me now. Confess.
Posted on: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 04:40:23 +0000
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