Wednesday, April 11, 2018

the seeker

So gone are the flitting days of youth
When all eternity stretched out before and
the time was ample to repair
to rebuild
the brokenness.

The days stretch still ahead but brief,
A flickering flame still strong
but without the infinite horizon
to buffer against the mistakes
the oversights of before.

And you ask of me, what is it I seek?
What balm do I desire to sooth my soul against
the distant but inevitable winter's cold?
What do I seek?

I have wondered at this.
Over many a waking midnight it has rolled
like silent thunder across the fathomless landscape of my countenance.
An unseen thorn burrowing into the skin of my soul.
What do I seek?

In the silence I have discovered it.
Hiding there in the darkened and recessed
corners, the ante-chambers of my heart.
I know it and will have nothing but.

I seek the one who, upon truly finding
Upon discovering the wellspring of her soul
Upon settling into the peaceful ease of her days
I awake utterly absent the notion to seek
Only to explore side by side.

It is said this is a dream
and well may it be, but I cannot settle.
I will have the one who douses the fire of seeking.
It shall be this one, or none.
Should she not be found, the jagged and rambling line of my days
shall follow its lonely path toward that horizon.
A deep and somber and satisfying tome in which is written

I have known interesting days.

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