Such creaking of old
                            clutched hands,
  wrinkles expressed
                               mark transient veins of time.

Logan Robertson

4/03/2019

Near the end of the hall, I treaded again through the stark cleanliness of the sanitized air,
Hearing breathless cries
from an empty room.

Hesitantly, I entered the white space.
An old woman, living beyond the natural lifespan and muttering to herself, perked up as she acknowledged an uncanny presence.
Her skin, containing a dash of red pigment, shrivelled with age,
so fragile that it could rupture with any given touch.
Her hair, a layer now so frail,
constituted of white strings coloured with a splash of steel
from the grey of granite.
Her eyes, wearied by the passing time,
still captured a willingness to live
Shown through the faint sparkle dangling on the pale blue surface.  

I could sense her angst, unsure of her path to heaven or hell.
With the flow of words pouring from my mouth, I questioned:

"What do you fear,
When you wake up from a drunken slumber
Afraid of time and its slow drip
Like melting snow
Or the smoke of sandalwood drifting in the air
Trying to figure how to pause time as it trickles
Drop by drop.
Lady,
             grip firmly your fear and stand in mastery, keeping the beauty of old age within you, not a terrifying frenzy.
Face yourself, and return to what you were in history: once an image of deity."

"Do not let guilt, unspeakable guilt, determine your direction to eternity."

And with that, the heaviness of her soul strolled out, as I listened to the echoes of her chosen destiny.

His hearing loss is going fast
Speeding past his aching heart
There's no foot on the brake
Just inches of peril
And how he wishes there was a pearl
One, one with life
Not one that now opens to a calamity
As old age creeps
Wrinkles and gray
Are part of the bay
As the sun weeps on the horizon
But his ears
And maybe his mind
Are a different story
He sees an impending sunset
Where the bay meets the sand
Where the pearls bask in the sun
There's still a splash
A tongue roars somewhere
He guesses
He sees the crescendo
A beauty, blues merging with white
Ripples and small waves everywhere
Seabirds might be squalling in the sky
He hears nothing
He feels a tap on his shoulder
His imagination
It's the whisper of the wind
For a moment he's at lost
Perils
The ones in the bay
The purples, whites, and golds mutating, too

Logan Robertson

2/15/2019

The gentle spring breeze kisses the blades of grass
Streams humming like a whispering melody
Life blooming in all its mysteries and curiosities
It filled the meadows with a calming harmony

Standing on at a crossroads, I tread carefully,
A man past his prime, Indecision takes hold of me
The pain of youthful love burned out all my passion
Heading carefully to where I want my rest to be

On this hill here beside you I have longed to rest,
Under the warm rays of sunlight, with the sweet-smelling grass
Under the vast sheet of starlight, when night blankets the sky
Only beside you is where I want to forever stay

Memories of our youth come surging like a flood
When love burned bright and you give me life
When sorrow took the best of me, I grew hopeless
And when I needed you most, Death took you from my arms

Yearning for love, a passion that burns out the soul
I longed for one to come my youthful heart’s way
Etched in it an undeniable desire to fiercely fight
For a love that engulfs one’s heart like a wild flame

And there it was, a point where everything changes
When it came rushing in and crushed all my defenses
When hearts come in resonance with each other
Their melodies harmonizing like two spirits merging

Young hearts come together like buzzing bees
Looking for a love like there’s no tomorrow
Lit up with a sense of passion one rarely sees
Only to be consumed by inevitable grief and sorrow

Ah! Youthful love, it burns bright yet brief
When a heart is consumed, it is doomed to fall
For when it gives its all, it is surely to get less
And when it endures, it hollows out the most

Every heart has to endure a whirlwind of emotions
Fear will come to dread it and Hate will try to **** it
A gentle insanity comes rushing in, a craze-driven passion
In which one leaves reality to run and find a dwindling ideal

The troubles of a young heart are wide and vast
Its innocence unable to shield it from heartaches
And as winter approaches, it is also forced to choose
Lie still in the snow, or endure waiting for the next spring

A love that’s taken and tested to endure
A love that is fought for and is let to consume
A love like that, I still pray to hold within my grasp
And so for that love, I must endure with all my might

A soldier in this war, I fought for the comfort beside you
A lover in this struggle, I loved you much more than I can give
And when my lips touched yours, my words become silent
How you bewitched me with your beauty leaves me speechless

But Reality is a cruel master, a monstrous fate
When I felt like I could conquer the world,
When I felt that forever in your arms I stay
That is when he breaks me hardest, deepest.

Death is an all-consuming enigma
He came to take you away from me
Like a thief he came when least expected
When our flowering lives bloomed brightest

I am left to question all that had happened
Crying out to the heavens day and night
But the beauty you embodied had taken a new form
A form only Life can recreate once more.

You became the grass, you became the earth,
You became the gentle wind that comes in springtime,
The wind that kisses me with passion and gentle caress
When every time it whispers your voice is all I hear.

On this hill where your spirit resides
I long to be in your comfort again
Time has aged me, but not my love for you
Youth has passed me by, but not the feelings you left me with.

Wait for me beloved, my time has come,
Final breath draws near, Death follows behind me,
He who took you away now brings me closer to you
Stay steadfast beloved, today I’ll come to be with you.

He turns the page
Of old age
For what was once the rage
Now sits in his cage
It's been a war to wage
This, life's final stage
The pressure gauge
Ticking on so outrage
Ticking by in ménage
For his book's cleavage
Untouched and derange
Year's wasted and disengaged
If only there was no leakage
Or ever such seepage
Life on his barren range
With no panacea to assuage
No wife ever, no cat, no life to engage
Nothing but red read rage
Now in his final chapter, this cage
This cage, death does he part this rampage
A life perched without marriage
For he married to himself backstage
Where his curtain veiled fruitage
In lieu of looking at the skies for dosage
He fell hostage to his hermitage
Yet this, his bottled pilgrimage
Sinking now in raging montage
He does sit beseeched in his passage
And hopes someday to bid bon voyage
With direr hopes of  turning a better page

Logan Robertson

9/27/2018