Song of the Wayfarer

Goodbye, my children;  you shall have your day
when seas sweep you beyond th'Aegean islands
where the scrolls lie buried underneath the sands,
beyond the submerged hulls of history,
complicit with their legends and their legacies
of shame and glory, intertwined that we might choose
to weep, to scorn, to laugh, to celebrate...but there is more.

 

The seawalls also crumble, past and present tunbling
in the froth of surf that languishes too long
in pools along the shore.  Rest there;
for there is more.  The gods are dead, the good still undefined,
and blinded eyes no longer hold the scales of justice.
There is always more.

 

Goodbye.  I leave you not in tears, but in no small regret
that all the years of searching left not truth enthroned,
but wider visions of reality that cannot be contained.
I loved you far too long; I orchestrated your insolvency
with sumptuous apparel, subtle slight-of-hand,
which some might then applaud, and then I gave you more.

 

I gave you fantasy, your instrument of mass appeal.
I gave you demagogy to subdue them; still I could not be content.
Who sees?
Who turns away when I become the one who does not understand?
Who snuffs the torch when it is I
who has no more to give?

 

Goodbye, Goodbye.
Now you must turn away, for there is so much more.
          ~

 

Reviews

[J. J. Nightingale]

Wow .. and Whoa ....


Jazz was here .............

[Dean]

thanks for stopping by

[J. J. Nightingale]

My pleasure .................

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Correction: “in the froth of surf that laguishes too long” should be “languishes”

Hmmm …

This makes me think of my mother and father. The latter leaving me nothing, not even a memory of his smile. The former with memories I’d sooner forget. Yet, they both left me with so much more – me. The promise of a new day, a chance to contribute something positive to the world. Me – more than money or material things could provide – the strength of resiliency, the backbone of determination, and the voice of some semblance of reason where there otherwise was none.

I wouldn’t consider myself a gift to the world, but I have a place, even if just for a moment.

Thank you.

[Dean]

I think in leaving you, they left a good deal more than you think

[Dean]

thanks again...you with the (wonderful) eagle eye!

[Marie]

Dean, I think you're speaking of someone, but I dont' know who.

[Dean]

Life, I guess.