Thought's Journeys
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Minstrel's Song

Minstrel strumming his guitar
Riding the waves of melody,
Rising up to ecstasy beyond mortal words
And falling into the depths of unspeakable sorrow.
Love regained sings out joyous and full
Above the bitter harmony of love long lost.
The shadow of death plays its hide and seek
From the resonating deep more felt than heard.
He conveys his message to all who hear,
Whether they are willing listeners,
Or are, instead, bound and dragged in with the chains
Of the bittersweet undertones,
Doomed to be caught in their curséd loom
And woven into the fabric of its song
With everything else not quick enough to escape.
As his song crests and begins to wane,
Even the slaves to its haunting threads
Feel the loss of its stifling embrace.
Then the last note lingers on in their hearts
Long after it has left them
To the memories it delivered
From the hidden vaults in the back of their minds.
--~}@{~--


Love Is...

Love is truth only when love is a lie.
Love lives only after it lies down to die.

Love is true joy when filled with despair.
Love is everything vanished into thin air.

Love is most pure when tainted beyond recognition.
Love is blindness with perfect vision.

Love's emotion is found in apathy.
Love's laughter is truly tragedy.

Love is togetherness spread far apart.
Love is the happiness of a broken heart.

Love is gentleness shredding your mind.
Love looks ahead to the past left behind.

Love is the peace of an eternal war.
Love is satisfaction in longing for a distant shore.

Love is holding on to the memory while letting go of the dream.
Love is worthy of less love than at first it may seem.
--~}@{~--


Like a Sparrow

He held me as one holds a sparrow
When it alights for a single, everlasting moment
On one's open and outstretched palm,
Fingers bent ever-so-slightly inward.

For, in that instant
Abides a sensation like no other,
Arising from the knowledge that the uncaged
Is dwelling, as tempoarily as it may be,
Within the jaws of the trap
That one could never bear to spring.

The soul of the truly free,
Resting in and trusting its care to
The good intentions of another,
Inspires in one the utmost awe and wonder.

Yet, one realizes in that fleeting second
That to hold on for any longer
Is needless
And meaningless.
What is the value of holding wings
That cannot fly?

He held me as one would hold a sparrow:
He held me as if he knew he would have to let me go.
--~}@{~--


The Fire

The union of destruction and beauty
In a simple, glowing flame;
It inspires your mind too wander
Free from your body's monarchial reign.

In the gently flickering glow
You see your past, your future, your dreams.
It whispers to you of things unknown
Though you comprehend not what they mean.

Within the flame and its fuel is a bond
If one ends, the other will fall;
As between your body and your soul
Is a link that encompasses all.

The fire's heat flows unbroken, yet free
From the two that gave it its life;
Just as your dreams seem to live on their own,
For, to be, they must first cause strife.

The fire draws you into itself
With the thoughts its beauty spurns,
But beware of the entrancing, dancing flame,
For though it is pretty, it ever burns.
--~}@{~--


I Am History

If knowledge is the wealth of the ages,
Then why have I no silver or gold?
If riches can conquer nations,
Then why have I not a home?

I have seen lifetimes gone to waste,
And yes, including mine.
I have seen some rise from the depths of despair
To leave their marks for all time.

I have tasted the kiss of betrayal.
I have tasted the bite of poisoned wine.
I have tasted the banquet of royalty.
I have tasted the ashes of all that was mine.

I have smelled fear so vicious and strong
That it would paralyze he who was once fearless.
I have smelled warmth carried on the summer wind.
I have smelled the stench of burning flesh.

I have felt the blow of a loved one's lie.
I have felt compassion so mild.
I have felt all-consuming rage.
I have felt the love of a child.

I have heard the promise of eternal peace.
I have heard the lovelorn sigh.
I have heard the threats of a raging tyrant.
I have heard that the unborn can die.

And still, after all has passed
How can I remain
Poorer than a wise man,
Yet richer than sin?
--~}@{~--


Names and Lives

There are some whose names
Have been carved into stone
To be recalled to life
For ever and anon.
Others, however,
Were not so renown;
Their names, merely spoken and whispered,
Were thereby passed down.
The majority of names, though,
The most important ones of all,
Were never spoken or written,
Only glimpsed across the hall.
All of these names,
All of these lives
Were remembered for something about them
That lingered behind;
But as footprints in the sand
Make their mark for a time,
Sooner or later
They are washed away by the tide.
--~}@{~--


The Only Unheard Prayer

listen to the story i was never meant to tell:
of God above and His angels in hell,
the ones that were created first,
live forever, and know no thirst;
made they were to sing His praise,
bow before Him, and guard His name,
not to question or to think;
of living water they could not drink.
now hear the angel praying on his knees:
"Lord, grant to me salvation, please,
though i have no soul to save,
a least then i would not be a slave,
Yours to order and command
to carry out Your will and sovereign demand,
whether killing the babe or the old in age,
guarding the pure or those filled with rage.
grant me a choice requiring more than a will,
more than distinguishing between two types of hell.
i may not die, but to what end?
my body needs healing though my soul need not mend.
servitude or damnation--where is the choice?
thank You, Lord, for giving me voice.
i will not expect an answer to this prayer,
for the prayers of an angel have no one to hear."
--~}@{~--


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