SPIRIT
By Harley
(wayenken1@aol.com)
We search out lifešs
path -
Unseen and unknown.
Our reason for being.
Our dreams - our hopes.
But chaos invades without
discretion
Humanities true dissension.
Spirits caged and cursed
Living though bruised
and dispersed.
Grandfather, I wander
in no direction
Stuck in the mire of
modern times -
Waiting breathless for
divine intervention
Facing a darkness beyond
time.
My spirit pounds like
the wings of a captive bird
Struggling to fly free.
Beating against lifešs
bars.
Seeking a path in which
to be.
I can not see the sun.
I long for the sunšs
gentle caress.
The moon does not grace
me.
Nor does the thunder
set me free.
I will die here.
I will cease to be.
Mankindšs subterfuge
Will have taken me
Far from the mother
Far from the truth
Far from the essence
of balance and good.
Š (JCE) 2/15/00
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