I am myself, Nothing more
How does the light fall dripping,
from the source beyond,
encapsulated in a memory,
of a time far gone.
A time apart, set quivering, still upon the stone.
A time yet not meant to be, for me,
because I am still alone.
Yet the rain continues falling,
in step with seasons dance.
The endless song of their voice
attempts to entrance.
But within each drop, within its secret chamber can be seen,
the hollow empty loneliness
reflected in my being.
The molded earth that warms my feet
I see with firm belief,
that it will lead my path astray
of the hidden reef.
But betrayal is the type of word the earth has taught me of.
For this is what my faith has given,
instead of producing love.
The haunting beauty of the world
remains to me aloof.
Its perfection dwells within my eyes
yet I seek further proof.
For even though all is one and you are part of me,
I thought I was a part of you, but
the union has ceased to be.
And round about without a doubt,
those tendrils of the air.
Those wisps of empty nothingness
that touch and leave all bare.
They come to me and sing to me of all that isn’t there,
and leave me feeling the empty ache,
torn beyond repair.