Songs bring me there,
whenever I wonder about who,
suddenly a few lyrics
love, passion, regret, pain, desire, the idyllic
man.
I wander along street corners,
when I do recall the words
bring me in return,
a place I suddenly leave
at every turn.
Yet I do desire the demand
to know the reason why,
I cry,
and the sky remains the same as always,
an indicator of time,
a place so far away,
yet still underneath us all.
We haven’t a chance to ever understand
the reason we bleed,
what it is takes our soul
wraps it around a tightly wound
circumstance,
until later on we breathe again,
wondering still again, just how come
we did ever decide in the first place.
I think our culture shapes us to ask ‘why’ at every turn. I love reading this and being reminded that the mysteries are best left solved, for the sake of beauty…and poetry. Thank you for that reminder Thom.
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I appreciate your coming along for the ride Mark, very much! Thanks.
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