Fly until summer’s gone
Nothing left
No place smiles
You creep into bed
Lost in a haze of thoughts
Of the queen of a dying
Country.
Midnight was a time of
Beginning.
Transition.
Still, it is.
But not as new
Cold poets weeping
Their tears
Riveting fish
In bowls
Who have never seen water out of
Context.
Just stand there
And breathe their pain
Hear the way their eyes droop
It’s like they cannot bear to
Look up
To the moon and star spattered sky
No longer
But forever more.
You want a song sung
Of passion
Of happiness
Of love.
Yet when poets cry
And fish gape like
They’re being strangled
Willingly
And the midnight has lost its
Whimsy
Where is the dawn at the end?
At the end of a sleepless night?
Where is the relief after a long cry?
Where is the joy of seeing a friend?
Climbing a mountain
Dancing in the rain?
How can you find rest,
Until you find
Your friend and sink into
An embrace?
How can you dance in the rain
When the sun is smothering the clouds?
How can you cease the
Wild torrent of tears
When you know there will be no
Relief?
How can you fall asleep peacefully when you know there will be no
Morning?
How can you climb the mountain
When you can’t see
Where your feet are treading?
How can you stop?
Fly.
Fly until it’s over.

Have you been there?
The place beyond
the trees.
Someone's whisper
reached into my thoughts
drew me in
like a fish oblivious
in death
reeled by the line.
Blind faith
the present moment
food for the fish
is food for the thought.

In truth
it's false
like a mirage
the horizon
the lull before a tsunami.

It's a trap
that bit on the line
the singular idea of it
yet I saw nothing
knew nothing
I was the family at the beach
swept suddenly away by the monstrous wave
Gone.
A lull
before the end.

But have you been there?
that place
Beyond.

Listen to the whisper
let it guide you
to the end
meet me there
in my thoughts
the place
beyond the trees.
It's not the horizon
Farther, farther
waver at the edge
Your mind
beckoning the beyond
like a mirage
a mystery
the place beyond the trees.

.
*Just staring out the window
Watching patterns dance upon asphalt
Hypnotized by the rhythm
As the rain keeps pouring down
Dripping in a steady stream from the roof eaves
Forming puddles on the once dry surface
Running off to some unknown location
Absorbed by the earth
And I wonder - why is the sky crying?
Then I look in my heart and see you are not there
And I understand