Plants
Feed off both the darkness
And the light.
They are planted in darkness,
Grow in darkness,
Survive the darkness.
They reach out through the black
And manipulate it
And thrive on it.
Then they reach the light, they still remain
Partially buried in the earth.
Just as an iceberg
Hides itself under the water,
So, too, do plants
Hide their amazing network
Of sturdy roots
Beneath the soil.
Many look at a plant
And marvel at its wonders
Without a second through
About the maze of life
That supports that
Which lives in light.

I see the tears,
Of anger, of sadness, of loss.
I know not anymore—
I have forgotten by now—
What happiness, joy, and thankfulness
Mean, what they look and feel like.
There is only darkness down here,
And I have hardened my heart
Against the pleas of humans
Lest my light be extinguished as well.
So when Orpheus came knocking
With his bright, lively music,
My heart was opened,
And I could feel it beating once more.
So this is what Love is,
How Happiness glows from within.
It was a beacon in my dark world,
And rekindled my hope.
It was for him and myself
That I let Eurydice go,
But my heart still encased
A small chip of ice,
And my cynical side
Told me I had to test him.
One simple request I gave,
One simple instruction:
Don’t look back; have faith
That your other half will follow.
I waved them off with pleasure
And a rosy hue warming
My cold blue flesh.
I wait with anticipation:
Their love is strong—
Surely this will work.
Surely they will both make it
To the flowers and the grass above.
But a wail and a sob drift to me,
And I feel a tug in my chest:
The feeling I get when a soul drifts down
And joins me in my dank, dark halls.
Eurydice sails past me, pale and blue;
She leaves a sparking trail behind her,
Filled with sadness and anger
And the faint taint of life.
I can see, in my special godly way,
Orpheus far above, crouching in the Sun,
His hands in front of his face
As tears burst from his shut eyes
And his heart is squeezed by invisible hands;
His golden lyre lies beside him, broken.
I close my eyes and sigh,
Disturbing the flames dancing next to me.
My soul count will increase by one
In three, two… one.

When the gold burns low,
And the tongues lick no more,
The shadows come out to play.
They leap and twist, hover and fall.
They bloom and they wither;
They chase each other
Around the dying lights.
They refuse to die, the shadows of light.
Yet die they must,
Along with their snaking friends,
And at last they are born away
By the wispy hands of the wind.

The black waters lap gently
At the shore of an obsidian beach.
I stand with my feet
Just submerged under the water,
My nails shining with kuro polish.
A shinigami waits beside me,
Its hands clasped behind its back
And its gaze fixed unblinkingly
At the distant, curved horizon.
Friends, enemies—I do not know yet:
All I know so far
Is that we’ve been standing here, together,
For quite some time,
And that every so often,
One of us will reach out
And clasp the other’s hand.

Let me see with the eyes of a child—
Pure, innocent, naive,
Unaware that mental boxes exist.
Let me see things in that special light
That shines forth from everyone,
Past any dark sins and evils.
Let Death return to an inquisitive curiosity
At the sudden stillness of an insect or a fish
And not bloom into a growing ache
That lingers in the heart.
Let the colors be revived
And all sights become brand-new.
Let the boundaries be erased
And laughter be drawn instead.
Let me see, as a child does,
The true power of a warm embrace
Or a friend that never leaves.
Let me see with the eyes of a child
Just once more,
Before even my current vision fails me.

If you see a set of footprints
Leading off into the distance,
Do not follow them their course.
You may follow them a ways,
But make sure it’s brief;
Do not follow them their course.
Turn to the left, or maybe to the right,
And forge ahead, my child—
Create your own set of footprints.
You may use the other footprints
For warnings—maybe models,
But it’s important that you make your own.
If you follow not others
And instead follow that which is in you,
You will see sights no one else has,
Accomplish feats unique to you.
Climb the mountains, cross the rivers,
Sail the oceans, survive the deserts,
Thrive in forests, and tame the tundra,
And your footprints will leave their mark
And you will be remembered.

If life is a tunnel,
It’s long and narrow.
It’s a maze of networks
In the bowels of the Earth.
Sometimes the tunnels
Are used for sewers instead
And you wind up slogging through muck.
At other times,
The tunnels are high and dry
And everything seems good.
Since the tunnels meld together
Into a near-endless labyrinth,
One can make many choices
And will dictate where one ends up.
The end result?
The Light at the end—
The opening to the surface world—
Or be trapped forever,
Wandering the heated, boiling center
With your life picked at
By nightmares.