What do you see, when you look into
A clear lake?
When there's a ripple
From skipping stones
When waves rise golden
Against sunlight
Tell me, what do you see
When you try and fathom
With your orphaned eyes.

What do you see
Through orphaned eyes
When you open a window
When waves of warm light
Come creeping in
On dandelion wings
To reach out to you
To tell you
A tale long forgotten from
Your orphaned mind.

What do you hear, when in a meadow
With your buried ears
Footfalls on velvet green; cry of a lone wolf
That follows behind?
Do you hear?
Leaves, whispering secrets
With the coming of a cool Autumn breeze; the silence
Of the night, that leaves behind pearls
On blades of grass?
If only
You could hear anything
Anything at all; save stories
That haunt you with songs
Of a barren land.

Would you stop, nomad?
Stop yourself and breathe life
Into those flowers, trampled
In your trail.
Would you taste your misery
And seep, into
The flavors of your orphaned soul
And be whole?

Yet you abnegate
Subjectivity.
In fear, in denial
Why would you do so?
Why would you do so?

You know you stand
On fractured pieces of you.
Yet you hide behind faces
Masquerading; far away
Why would you ache
To be a wraith; drifting
When you're already home
When you're already home.