|
| |
To My Parents
I've learnt of you,
To be.
Chasing X and Y axis along the lines you've traced.
But they don't work for me:
Who, of sense-full beings can say I've been taught:
By he, the Holy Ghost, and Mother Mary, when none but martyrs has claimed to be the such?
And so I sit untaught.
Unknown to paths other than those tossed before me in lazy matrimony.
Enshrouded in false mysteries solved by but he whose mind but ticks on; beats to the pulse remnant beneath the useless shade.
From its echo I enhance.
From its echo I endure with waves of yearn.
To be more than a source whose shadow bares none but semblance to itself.
And hopefully, mine own will take shape unknown to those before it.
Copyright ©
B.J. Fitz
|
|