SEARCHING.

The lighthouse keeper follows the sun,
The prisoner tracks the moon.
Inverted bats weep in the cave of sleep
When they hear the banshee’s lonely croon.
 

Driftwood drying on a desolate shore

Fronds of lacy seaweed hair
Adorning the petrified wooden shafts
On the suede sand dunes; bare.
 
I know I was but a footstool for her
But she had such perfect feet
Of velvet toes and heels and soles
Monumental arches complete.
 
Only hatred can sharpen a mind
Dead men’s fingers no longer probe
Useless as the eyes in leather shoes
Or the seas on a cubic globe.
 
The gods conspire against us all
The world is not kind to the weak,
We must abandon ever finding
That which we most eager seek.
 
Still we search for the unfindable
The ties that always bind
And march upon a hidden path
Where the seeing is always blind. 

Horizon ever stretching further

As elusive as the Pimpernel,
Heaven’s sorrows a gateway
To the Saturn sins of Holy Hell.

As blind men we must fumble round

Not knowing what we seek or hide,
Blessed is the one that finds the way
That he might look inside.