Because Sometimes

 

To put into words how we feel in a moment

is like trying to launch a balloon in the wind

to chase after something just out of reach

that dances and teases hither and there

with no malice aforethought and nary a care.

And it stirs something dormant that dwells deep inside

where rebellion and wisdom and passion reside.

Yet we're loath to let go of this image we’ve fostered

nor let someone see us, naked and bare

so we hide in the clutter of daily achievements

lest someone discover the truth hidden there.

And the path that we walk is all littered with trifles

subconscious  rejections: a fence if you will—

to keep heart protected from meaningless prattle,

locked in the past with time standing still.

Sometimes I sift through the words that you’ve written

–your subtle seductions with ink and a quill–

for the slightest inflection that intimates more

coded inside a well-thought metaphor...

So write of your darkness, the weight on your shoulders

of  light that you search for, of love you have lost;

each of us bears up the best that we can

life is unkind and we both know the cost

The cravings we carry aren’t quilled in just words

but are quickly dismissed by scars we’ve incurred

and neither sees past all the forks and the turns,

to surrender to risk, just to be burned.

So we ever politely forego and abstain

lest we sully this pretense that we have retained.

© Ginny Brannan 2024