THINKING

 
Into the unkown
recesses of my mind
lie burdens of obvious imperfections,
carved names, like years, in remembrance form,
burrows with nothing but hollow dreams.

Oh how it would be, to be, again,
   reborn....

Turning to "god" is not an option.
That ship has already sailed.
The art of pretending, escapes from the talents
of the few granted on me.
Seeking a wiser, defined, ridged soul-
to ask the meaning of all one must know-
is a lifelong journey.
So steep is the climb-
It just keeps our purpose
so difficult to find.

Tread slowly-
I wish I had the guidance to know
before all the years slipped away and let go.