Ther Vine Keeper

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Wednesday, December 28, 2011

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

the world i once looked at
through my rainbow flavored thoughts
have dulled a bit
perhaps more
over the years.
all this is the becoming of adulthood

the glass i once looked through
needs to be pieced back together
that these Rainbowic colors
may have life again

the pane that once reflected
naught but my joys
and innocence
and ignorance
now lies like shards
upon my meandering pathway

careful son
you may cut your feet
and bleed upon the carpet
or some pad of paper
leaving your footprints
your mark
of undeniable anguish

the language of tortured souls before me
still yet wish for voice
is this my destiny as well ?
. . . to pass on
with the song not completed ?

i look upon the faces of the children
and i see the possibilities
of their traveling this same road
of the impending doom
where one assumes
the righteousness of the world

and again, perhaps it does exist
but surely it is resonating
in a dimension apart
from the limited wholeness we view
askewed from the embrace

i hear all about town
and all around
that “Love” will save us . . .
will it alone be our Hero . . .
or are we required as well

i am compelled to remain confused
for that is the poison we are fed
in our own heads
where the light from that window
is forbidden to penetrate

wait . . .wait . . .wait
what am i saying here
Oh My God
i call on thee
to see me through
hear me
i am screaming
and without
in my lines and rhymes
and verse
and the lack thereof

i pray thee
may i become that child again
as this world i once looked at
through my rainbow flavored thoughts
completely dulls

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight


(c) 28 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

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