I Gave It All Up ( To Glow Like This )

I gave it all up to glow like this,
The blaring luminescence died
Like a candle-wick in wax;
I, drowning in it.

Perhaps it was fate
Perchance a mirage ---
This miraculous outcome.

Maybe it was nothing of
Significance or importance.
Or as I sit here writing of it,
A ghost I have become
Unseen to the masses ---
Therefore my existence
Is speculative at best.

Maybe an echo is all I am,
A lone dog barking into the wind,
Unanswered, or maybe I am the wind
Answering the dog ---

Or floating seeds or butterflies.
What, then is this indignity I observe,
Where does it hang its hat,
I want to meet it ---

I want to sit down to tea with it,
I want to stare at it intently and ask,
' Why am I here ?',
My trigger-finger scribbling insanities like
An epileptic with a pen.

I want to break the contract with it
Or at least amend it to suit my incorrigible
Wants and needs ---
More pens, more paper !

Writers cramp never slowed me,
The will took over where
Coordination failed
To produce this:
A redundant story,
A revolving door ---

A roulette wheel of intangibles
Counting its revolutions
Hard-won fact by
Hard-won fact.

See ---
Its kaliedoscopic accents
Glowing through a din
Of unknowing.

I reach for them like
Illusive fireflies.

I am but a diarist penning
Improbables.
But, oh, to dream,
To envision such things,
To see archetypally ---

It becomes something
That exists and I become
An existence when
The world sees
It too.