Puddles Grow From Drops Of Rain

Puddles grow from drops of rain
chimes of anger circle pain
demons come and demons go
what's in your hands still remain.

Bubbles on a cloudy day
pass as images from pink to gray
all our pearls of history
thought not felt instead of played.
Reflective dream dim chimera
myth, a vision's silky vapor
is there nothing left but air
and another deepening caper?

Once, along the beaches
of a dozen eons past
a searcher came upon these words
etched on a buried mast:

"sweetness is as sweetness be
or temporary insanity
joy an absence of the hurt?
don't make the past unnecessary."

Though he spent a long time watching
through grainy sands of time
when before him fled illusion
cast by neither sun or moon,

It was an irredescent moment
two spirits from some breeze
that caused a ripple in the surf
to dance magically with ease.
Reflective dream dim chimera
myth, vision and vapor
there's gotta be something way out here
to make the trip much safer.

Yet it's anger and it's brother pain
leaving my soul years after
and it don't get better, it's still the same
your hurt is not my laughter.

"Time's long past to play this game"
said the verse in the shifting dunes
But I didn't know then what I don't know now
and there's still no one else to blame.

"I've slept a thousand nights
upon the sands of countless beaches
searching for your shadow
which I somehow left behind

In my haste to try to find you
when I knew for certain I could feel you
if only I'd stop looking long enough
to feel your shadow in the breeze
dancing in the light behind me."

Reflective dream dim chimera
myth and vision and vapor
we've all our own wizard fairy
to make the trip much safer.

January 1968 & April 1994


Short Stories

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