Traveled Home, Stayed Gone
My friend and I talk--
life, stuff, whatever:
Truth rings the rising bell
cathedral tall or grave deep
I know not which
but for whom, yes, we all resonate.
Alone within
the crowd forever circling
I often discover myself
looking into that abyss
which is a mirror, a sea
smooth only when lifeless
and alive only when rough and torn
with storming need, thrashing want
blurred beyond vision, beyond recognition
I sail and sell
myself short and throw my soul
longing for that which cannot be
possessed by nightmares
corpse-white and black as death
flaming like a cold iron sword
gripped, my only anchorage
fluttering between realities
singing a siren song
beckoning me forward, ever the odyssey
unwanted, namesake of my journey
I strap my id down to listen
when I should be turning homeward bound
burning, churning like the sea
tempest-tossed and tortured
empty as a bowl
filled with the blood of angst.
O, if ever there were a sailor
on the seas of fate, lost
in the belly of the beast
diving deeper than Gilgamesh
in search of immortality:
tat tvam asi.
Am I lord of the abyss
or just a fish on a hook
or worse yet the fisherman
hooked on illusion, sunk
like the Fisher King enthroned
on deck beneath the albatross
Captain Ahab walking on water
water everywhere and ne'er a drop to drink?
I cannot know
what others know, but I think
I know what they think:
A trinity in one
is more simple than mathematics,
more equal than the man.
I see eyes seeing
myself lost and therefore found
in the moment of fear
crying out eloi eloi lama sabachthani?
full circle through this looking glass,
found the undiscovered country,
traveled home, stayed gone.
