Email Poem

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Poem

once, oh so long ago
when there was a shining sun,
I held a fair maiden
in my arms
her eyes gleamed with love
our arms entwined
there was a cyrstal clear mountain lake,
an idyllic tarn
and a sense of joy about us

there is now no sun
the lake is dry
the arms are gone
except in my memories
exquisite torture,
these memories...
as parental love banished beneath
the grave's dirt
caskets closing on love,
never to return

smiles taunt me
I no longer understand them-
but for the mad leer of the insane
driven to a world that no longer exists
when this one has exhausted its value

one more ride into the past
on the steamship of dreams
dreams- where all things are possible-
and there is no past to block us
a formidable thing-
these dreams-
with their own existence-
their own logic-
their own physics-
their uncontrollable ability
to take us where they wish-
through time, through space
through logic-
indeed through reality-
(such as it is)
reality- is the dream the reality?
is reality real?

I've slept in this room for fifty years-
this home where loved ones
lived and died
where a wife stared out the window-
lonely-
eagerly anticipating the arrival
of her spouse

Yet no one will arrive for me
and none do wait for my return
I await only my own end
i will not hasten it-
but I may long for it.

for the happiness of the past
reveal's the stark contrast
of current pain
many never so blessed, I suppose-
I wonder if they're the lucky ones?

fear grips me in the forest
it is dark
I am alone
it is dark.

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