Steps of Gold

A little bit further

until I reach the shore.

To my left I’ll find what I’ve been looking for:

the endless unknown.

 

Should I count my steps in silence

as the shark swims parallel?

No men, no guns, no hate,

but the undercurrent bites…

Holding a grip tantamount

to the deviant drive of my spine

to find rhythm and time

in reason and rhyme.

 

180 degrees, a mistake, I agree.

Inevitably, I’m free.

But the undercurrent bites…

The shark can clearly see

 

Massive pillars of Earth and life..

Condescending?

I’ll never know

These redwoods never tell me so

 

As the undercurrent bites,

and the rocks slice,

the realization explodes like an array of colors

thrown up on a chained canvas…

 

These stationary trees

are free.

And I am the chained canvas.

Reviews

[James Wilson]

As I said in commenting upon your review of my poem 'Lie', meanings often escape me. They have done here too, but I find myself okay with that... the imagery is fascinating and your ideas present themselves almost as puzzles to be solved. It's passed midnight here in the UK, so thank you for a very interesting, late night read! - JW