I’ve been thinking lately, about the weight of things. The things we collect along the way. All the while “things fall apart.” The weight of what we carry measured not in mass. I once thought the measure of a man was in what he could carry on his shoulders. Recently the thought has struck me that perhaps the measure of a man is in the portions of his soul he gives to others. And in Lately I’ve been wishing for innocence and yearning for an unfettered sense of joy. For a gateway to awe and a sense of eternity. Staggered I stand on the edge of the the endless expanse that separates you from me. I envision the bridge that would close the gap, and plot its construction, yet in my black heart I know that it is a bridge I burned myself while I stood upon it, baggage in hand. I’ve searched high and low for a treasure to call my own. At the end of the rainbow I found a chest but to my chagrin it was filled with the ashes of everything that I burned to get what I had to have. In my dreams I drift in an eternal ocean of night, lost in the blankness of the neverending dark. And the sun still shines, even swaddled in clouds of rain. Even in the eyes of the blind. Raindrops water flowers and hide their tears as well. In the night the water washes away the stains of the day. I must be as water, cleansing, flowing, ever in a state of change. But fresh as dew on the blades of grass and visceral as the blood on my bladed steel.
I’ve been thinking. I’ve been thinking.