somewhere closer to here

a poem about the uncertainty of what you think you know

i guess I am one of the lost,

without the skill to find my own steps

back along the way I came

and not yet looking for

the marks only I can see

Or perhaps you are lost

and wandering in the dark

following an imagination of light

or a memory of a wish

somewhere closer to here

or my feet search the ground

while the land appears under you

There are ways to see

We know the tree is not the leaves

not the branch not the trunk

not the sky not the ground

all and none of these.

And there are ways to hear

Your voice is not your mouth

not your mind not your face

not your words not my thoughts

all and none of these

And there are ways to talk

I'll draw circles round words

and words will wind circles around

They come to the place I stand

somewhere closer to here

There is beauty in playing these games

but no truth.