The Phantom's Life

The phantom wanders through the forest with the presence of a ghost
At every turn among the trees he takes he’s neither here nor lost
He’s never set his path, and every tree looks just the same
Only the sunlight shining through is what makes worthwhile the view.

It’s a circular forest, and the fringes he has found
Now he’s got nothing to do but walk around and around.
He’s a phantom passing onward, but never in a game
Amid the animals that sleep amongst him he feels wide awake.

Nothing seems to hold him, and he can’t seem to hold on
All passes through completely, from its start ’til it’s done.
The phantom follows no one, and his emptiness is bliss
The phantom is the emptiness he knows everyone is.

He’s spent his days searching for what gives him no rest
But in the whole wide forest he’s found only the forest.
And so, he lets it go, and goes on although he knows
That there’s nothing more to find around the bends and in shadows.

He forgets of the desire that belies a constant hunger
To be never satisfied, and he goes along his way
Seeking nothing, knowing that there is nothing out there to find –
’Til he suddenly finds himself beneath an archway.

 1/31/09