SCBW 09 – a farewell of sorts

there is something timid in my approach tonight;
the moon is in the last quarter and not within my sight,
I begin my solitude cowboy’s blues walk

if I wake up in the eastern sky before dawn
I can see Gemini the Twin, Castor, Pollux and Mars
with the moon being a tea cup

when I search the sky; there is no suffering. I am not cast away
or shrunk from fate, moored by the bow or unrequited
simply wishing

not a parable but a triangle of velocity, a straight line, a side or a vector
sometimes depending on the weather, slow to accelerate
I don’t tend to follow natural position lines for the journey.

I relied on an anger that spent my youth like a turn by the vaulter;
directional by physical force, moving, having moved enough
to avoid the bar

although; I was quiet. a burglar in a sleeping home. I could walk right into a bedroom and steal jewels before the dawn. I was empty of the possession
of a being

not soulless or undivine; for I could be enigmatic when I needed shelter
the method of physical action, a revealed exegesis,
never leaving a trace of my existence

and it seems for forty years I have walked alone, turning stones and making beds
that my benign neglect and aspect certainty was less the mark of Cain
but as perfection comes, the imperfect disappear or never the two shall meet

there was never any intention to write the conscious book of evil ab initio, Astarte & Variance take their turns in solitude when driving the bay shores
I kept my faith as long as any man should have

so for years I have kept this shame inside, stormed my fate like a man sentenced to hanging. took my rest in the wilds and the wastelands and took my comfort
among the sinners refusing to love or be loved

some sort of low parallel, sunken to the bottom of the sea, ashes strewn, a fallen cup,
a bag of seed torn, languished and refused this temper flared until if failed
to burn longer than the summer daylight

it is not coupled to surrender but awakened to the tome found in the bedrock
liminality courses it structure to bevel this homecoming
clinging to the kelp and seaweed dredged up from the sea

shall I fully know now? as the dimming of this penance fades? is my walk ending or just beginning since now I feel the calling of my greatest deeds, no longer affected by the childhood punishment, no longer held back by the chains of hesitation

I will only know now by the steps I take, I will only know now by the steps I take,
if I have been forgiven and if I can let it all go, once and for all
if I can give my heart and soul, to the life I have now.

October 10, 2009

© 2009 woundedlordliterature
from of old men and of the sea

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