Worlds Away

what the nomad brought home

Burning Bridges

You light the torch,
And I’ll burn the bridges,
And in a blaze of insanity,
We’ll illuminate all this night running.

Don’t ask me what’s on the other side–
That riverbank is not the destination.
And if I arrive, you’ve failed your mission.
You need to torch the weary planks beneath your feet
From which you watch the river rushing past.
What’s so special about that vantage point anyway?
Sometimes, eyes closed, we see much more.

Go ahead.
I’ve cleared the way.
There’s no one in pursuit,
And I’m jumping.
That initial spark
Of the night-wanderer’s torch
That set the living waves alight
Was an accident,
But its natural hunger
Erupted into a bonfire,
Destroying dead boards over stagnant currents
And devouring the tangled scrub
That kept the life force water channel at bay.

Look
With your third eye
At what’s right before you;
That liquid moonlight is timeless,
And the dancing, night-black waves
Are actually transparent.
The Styx
Is all too happy to yield
The secrets of countless incarnations
If you dare reveal your own.

 

Yes, there is another one on here with the same title.  Sometimes, I start writing, and two poems are born instead of one.  I also thought this was particularly appropriate for the time of year; we’re currently in Scorpio, and it has a very Scorpio feel — death, destruction, re-birth, secrets, night, water, purification, mystery, the invisible, the edge of reason, the ancient…

November 6, 2008 Posted by | Poetry | Leave a comment