Christine Phillips Poet Narrative

The middle of the Stream

There are still some good things left in life, but you have to fight hard to survive. The truth is engraved in the walls of time and the street that you are walking on is resting on the arms of strong men, men who lay concrete with whips over their backs, men who die in the blackness of the night when there was no hope of escaping, they were determined to live or die. Examine all the walls around you, and look closely at the lines, and you will find something that is causing the divide.

Lines that spread beyond the deep, lines that cause imbalance in my sleep; it is the line that you cannot see, that is causing great disharmony. Some people have gone too far and it has caused an universal brawl, and leaves others wandering in the dark in a world whose gut is stuffed with old cloth. Only if you could see those lines, it will remind you that the world is like a pyramid on the sand with a bottle standing upright in the palm of its hand.

You pretend to see it, but the truth is, you have never seen it, and those who have seen it are still stretching beyond it, for there is no boundary and honor comes with much glory. Get your pencil and makes some dots, join them together and you will see what you have got for supper; the plot is simple, so come with me to the middle of the stream and you will see what I mean.
What is going on in that head, you have got to face your music before you end up dead, you are racing ahead of time, but the world is still pressing for time. Hope is just across the street, yet you are running a marathon everyday while the world is looking the other way. Take me to the middle of the stream and I will show you how you can recover your dreams.

You have gotten a slice of the cake, but your technology is out of date, you build things that are bigger that you and you don’t know what to do. You build things to destroy your neighbor, in the name of some savior and you bargain for days to give man the praise. What do you have to keep when the world is trembling on its feet? You have got to learn to play another tune and organize a new delegation to meet with me by noon.

The world is shaking and my heart is breaking, your ambivalence is creating disharmony, you must agree to something and standby your words and promises. Trust us all I seek to make the deal complete, but sometimes you make my spirit weep. There is nothing to gain if you conquer this world; there is nothing to gain if you steal your neighbor’s girl. Material things can be replaced but the breath of life is given once and when it’s gone you go with it and there is no profit.

You must tune the instrument again and strike a new bargain with our friends. Germany gave up its nuclear ambitions, so why can’t Iran understand? You don’t have to build missiles and rockets to cut down trees, so agree to something, for in second everything could be swept away with the breeze.

Come with me to the middle of the stream and reset the dividing line, and everything will be fine. Give the people what they want, so that they can escape out of the dark. Come with me on the dingy boat and take along a rose and let float in the stream to honor those that die for thee.
We are going to try again, until we become friends; everyone will get a slice of the cake and the chance to go out on their first date, good people are still there so open your heart and show the world that you care.

 The middle of the stream is filled with my dreams.

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