The Heavens Trapped
I see you walking on the beach
with the shyness of a kite,
toes gripping the sand with eyes that float
to the ends of the sea - tell me
(why do you look to the stars, love,
when we are more amazing?)
There are dreams
within dreams
in merely the sheen
of your crystal clear eyes
Yet with each breathless sigh
I can hear you hesitate
(...lunar cycles, she coolly states,
we are but a phase...)
Tell me, dear, where else
do the heavens find themselves trapped
but in your gaze?
Does not the Sun give us light each day?
(the Sea itself takes time to lick our feet,
as vast as she is, despite how we treat
her -- she comes back again,
nevertheless)
Is the Grass, as green as it is,
aware of its sheen?
Do the Miraculous Butterflies
long to metamorphosize yet again
(or are we the only creatures who dream?)
Do the Mountains boast of their grandiosity,
their towering tallness?
(why then, do we meek and mild, feel embarrassed
over our smallness?)
Take me back to the time
when all of these things were gods
and we were merely chattel,
(just the remains of a celestial battle)
the forgotten residue
----is that You?
An afterthought of a careless god
from cradle to grave?
We were unchained long ago,
yet still think we're slaves...
--
sitting on the hoods of our cars,
wishing upon shooting stars,
thinking love is somewhere out there
beyond the clouds or perhaps even the ether
And yet it's neither
It's right HERE
As tangible as the question
lying in our reflection--
(the truth committing suicide
on our tongues)
We'll conquer every mountain, every sea,
travel beyond the farthest galaxy...
...before we ever contemplate
the miracle of You and Me
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