Just If
Posted: February 16th, 2009, 2:20 pm
just if
if only eyes could see-
into the moments nearest our emptiness of heart,
beyond the questionable lines drawn in by the sightless,
to the goal of our gifted, whispering dawn...
if just once, a mind could ever reveal-
the secrets in holding, bound forever to impart,
but purged by darkness, intangled and deaf
to loves' foregone ascent to our current design...
if apprehension could not stand its way-
and callously deface the fabrics of the art
or blatantly accuse what it cannot deny,
holding the lie in place to the lost and withdrawn...
if time were not a wave ridden in our lust-
washing clean the beaches of our intended beauty
and drowning the true dream of our being in
the depths, ever stealing away our vision...
and if, just if, one would dare against care-
to enter into a hope of finding this place between
the corners of our soul, to cut away the threads that
weave the confines of our weakness in mind...
if we haven't chosen to retard our own evolving-
to what form would we discover ourselves occupying
in the ageless generations of our dimentional spirit,
in how many realms would our love find embracement...
it would be just, to erase the essence, of the word if-
when the broken shards of thought finally let through
our shinning selves, giving each one to the other
the acknowledgement of our birthed investment...
until there is a communion within our truth-
shall we be always afflicted with emotional debt,
infected with a virus that only services our boast,
belittling our existance and our right to be...
wgs
2/16/09
____________
many is a word
if only eyes could see-
into the moments nearest our emptiness of heart,
beyond the questionable lines drawn in by the sightless,
to the goal of our gifted, whispering dawn...
if just once, a mind could ever reveal-
the secrets in holding, bound forever to impart,
but purged by darkness, intangled and deaf
to loves' foregone ascent to our current design...
if apprehension could not stand its way-
and callously deface the fabrics of the art
or blatantly accuse what it cannot deny,
holding the lie in place to the lost and withdrawn...
if time were not a wave ridden in our lust-
washing clean the beaches of our intended beauty
and drowning the true dream of our being in
the depths, ever stealing away our vision...
and if, just if, one would dare against care-
to enter into a hope of finding this place between
the corners of our soul, to cut away the threads that
weave the confines of our weakness in mind...
if we haven't chosen to retard our own evolving-
to what form would we discover ourselves occupying
in the ageless generations of our dimentional spirit,
in how many realms would our love find embracement...
it would be just, to erase the essence, of the word if-
when the broken shards of thought finally let through
our shinning selves, giving each one to the other
the acknowledgement of our birthed investment...
until there is a communion within our truth-
shall we be always afflicted with emotional debt,
infected with a virus that only services our boast,
belittling our existance and our right to be...
wgs
2/16/09
____________
many is a word