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A Land of Mud and Golems
My arms no longer carry me,
And wheels replaced my legs.
In faraway memories a child still lives,
that as a grey rodent encircles me.
In obscure dreams he emerges:
Occasionally plays the violin with
hesitant, timid strokes,
faltering, wavering courage.
And from the corners of my eyes,
I see him dance in budding spring sunlight,
that sets his ringlets aflame
while he pirouettes past.
My mouth found speech again
In shy attempts with special friends
But in the loudness of their words
this soft sound breaks down
This baffling world of communication
fails my ears and eyes
in feeble attempts to see beyond
the mystifying facade of statue-like people
My dreams are colonized by faceless creatures
occasionally sorrowful, or enraged.
They walk around me in sorrow, they lost love
and life, they live in me eternally
I do not think I am alive, I think I am not dead
There is a land of mud and golems
walking past with silent screams in open mouths
Forever walking past in circles
Copyright ©
Darren White
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