dissemblance

we are guilty bystanders to a collison,
a witness to four bleeding colors for four corners
where we will stand in one place, (believing)
and be in four states...translocation
or dislocation...vicious, like a vision
of what we might see in eternity
when two find freedom, become one, yet
we are not always as we claim, with the same
Creator, and though often saying the same things,
in creation we are not the same, but
disparate: different but not indifferent
to the similarities in each other
a verisimilitude of rareties, feeling
again different and the same under covers
reeling, exultant, feeling exalted
in a light brown house with evergreen shutters we can
see the ruins around us where building has been halted
we cannot blame ourselves or others
for their pain we cannot be faulted
we can but try to make them better
pick them up and right them, or
write them so they will not be forgotten...
we can but try to not remind them
that giants walk this earth beside them:
our world spins on a different center
(they freeze in winter/ we are frozen in time)
a stranger sun meets our eyes each morning
each time we try to reassure them and
explain oceans as if we meant is as a warning...
stretch strong muscles then be still,
reach with your spirit, you can hear it filling the beach
bide your time and tide for the day when wisdom will
bind little minds and make them whole. Sand
falls from a broken hourglass, time's breach.

2.27.2006