All In

I'm trying not to be sad.

But it's a battle I can't win.

A part of me is focused

On all the positive things- 

The prospect of the unknown

Gives me an electric thrill.

But another part,

The one I can't control,

Chokes on all the bitter fumes

Of dreams going up in smoke.

So much effort wasted

Planting seeds that have not grown.

And so I'm spinning,

Disoriented.

Oscillating between

Peace, contentment

And dread of the unseen:

Teetering in tenuous equilibrium

Waiting for the drop.

Only question is, 

When?

When will the wheel of fate

Finally come to a stop?

Then, 
What hand will the dealer pay out?

And,
 If it comes to sudden death,

Could I stick it out?

But in the moments just before the fall

It all goes eerily quiet

As I purposefully choose to trust,
Drawing strength from a world gone silent.
I accept the things I do not know.
I let Faith fill me up.

I relinquish all the might-have-beens
And,

Surrendering, 

I take the plunge.

Upended

I've lost my way-

Again.

But this time something's different.

Every other time

There's been a landmark,

Something familiar: 
A signpost or some indicator.

This time though,

There's simply nothing.
Nothing in earth, sea or sky.

Nothing I can recognise.

I've lost my way again.

Shadows

Come creeping from the bushes

Like hyenas come to feast upon 

The carcass of a dying sun.

Mossy tree trunks give no indication

Of the proper orientation.

The stars above are strange

And I can't trust the constellations.

I've lost my way again.

If you look carefully,

You'll see me standing, listening,

Waiting to be saved.

Tightrope

How many times did I turn you 

away?

How many ways did you ask me to 

stay?

How long did it take me to come to my 

senses?

Too long, I daresay. Too long to 

mention.

How far back does this pattern go in your 

recollection?

How much will it cost us to maintain this high

tension?

The Rhythm of absence

In and out,

Forward and back,

Like waves on a grainy seashore

Silvered by the beams

Of the wide, greedy moon

Toying with her flexible lover-

Pushing and pulling

In ancient cyclical time.

Left and right,

Up and down,

You tug at the edges of my mind

In similar regular motion:

Intense and gentle,

Yet only half serious,

You ply my malleable will

Into acceptance;

Then quickly pull away-

A clean, premature click

That leaves me unfulfilled

Yet unable to shake my desire.

These ghost-like appearances-

Phantom interventions-

chill and haunt me.

Your ethereal presence

materialises only in your absences:

Here, then not.

Beside me, then suddenly far away.

Like prairie grasses

Rippling and swaying

In the playful caresses

Of a mischievous breeze,

Then left in motionless expectation,

Waiting for the next breath

To set them back asway.

But the pattern has become familiar,

And loneliness, a pet vice.

So that even were I to break free

From this rhythmic circle,

My life would lie limp

and lifeless,

Dull and still like a moss green pond

Whose surface only ripples

With the fleeting assaults of passing clouds.

And so I live.

From absence to presence

To disappearance renewed.

Content to move along with the tide;

Feeling no remorse

And no resentment.

Just going with the flow,

At one

With the rhythm of your absence.

Hypothetically Speaking

What if I stopped trying to hide

And simply let go of my folly and pride?

What if today were the day

I gave up on the games

And stopped being so preoccupied with issues of shame?

What if I stopped trying so hard

And simply let go and let God?

What if today were the day

All your dreams came true?

Would it be worth all the things you had to go through?

What if you found out

You only had hours to live,

Would you still be proud of all the things you did?

What if you lost the thing

You've been holding on to with all your might,

Would you still have the courage to plod on and fight?

What if after all the years 

Of being adamant and headstrong,

We suddenly woke up to find we were wrong?

What if we gave our best

Even when the way got rough,

And found that our best was not good enough?

What if we had all the answers,

Would we still have questions?

And if we had no questions,

Could we still learn life's lessons?

What if we abandoned all lies

And lived only for truth

Would we be humble enough 

To accept the truth about me and you?

What if we stopped being enemies

And tried to be friends

Would the time we had left suffice to make full amends?

What if you were me and I were you

Do you think we each could walk a whole mile in the other's shoe?