That was then, this is now

A brand new day A brand new you Thinking of something I want to do I visit a place of ages Where voices speak to me New voices and voices so Old the breath they Ride on is architecture And old lawns In the distance the city Is filled with sirens And grit beckoning to me With its open blouse And animal fat disguised With the ancient spices. If I go to it I know What will happen all The same old same old Hey buddy how are you Not much yeah see you But if I remain here Almost against my will For a moment something New may happen a Synaptic groove etched with Rebirth and something so utterly New it doesn’t have a Word for it yet. I’ve been here amongst the Old voices and architecture Before, sitting with lady bugs and Auburn colored finches on the Dedicated benches in the shade. It never quite grabs me The way the city does The stinky old furious Cacophony of alley cats And hound dogs The me that is the animal Has a way I cannot Unbecome and I am reminded Of this as another auburn Finch floats by What do these voices have to Say to me that is germane? I decide what is important And what is not, after all I live with my own consequences. The point of it all As wrestled to the ground Leaving me with too Cold a breeze against my back To shudder and lurch into action, Seeking again Seeking yet disappointed with the Feeling that the old voices Were talking but it was Just me who wasn’t listening.