Saudade

the grass is supposed to grow where you water it but...

perhaps the water wasn't enough

something stirs inside

waiting for something right

I make the best of what the garden affords

weed out the passing thoughts

tend to the buds that try to form

if you enjoy spirals

an endless mobius existence

going on but never returning

where ever you go

there you are

this heavy-handed grief

hits like a hammer

I don't have to cry help

to know I'm alive

tough to know

that touch will go

where it goes

I keep hearing the old sweet refrain

a little too hard rock

There is a flatness to my inner landscape

You might say there doesn't seem to be any happiness within

but you would be wrong

There are hills where Everests used to be

there are puddles where oceans used to be

perhaps it is time to climb the hills

and swim in puddles

and imagine I climb Everest

or that I swim in the Gulf

the wind has simply died down

no more hurricane gusts

just gentle, soft breezes

Are you finding your way?

Did you celebrate life

and found a happiness there

and maybe a guilty relief?

I found more questions than answers,

such as how such love could be wedded to such ... evil?

maybe that's too extreme of a word, but something more than

meaness

I found more apathy than assertion.

I found that we are as good as the hand we hold

the action we take

the tears that fall

because I do not seek the death of my neighbor

I lift them up

instead of stepping on their necks

I offer my coat instead of kicking them to the curb

If they are hungry

I'll give them a place to eat

and time to ponder

they can hide in my attic

if they must regale their days of loss

let it be after we have turned away

from this dark and unholy place

this refraction of our darkest and most evil of desires

I will never lower the temperature

for to do that will give it succor