Standing on the bank of the turbulent river
One foot in the present and one foot in the past
The sun glares harsh and casts shadows in silhouette
Rendered images that dissolve with pebble cast.
I am reasonably confident of finding
The lost language that the unconscious mind can hear.
Zircon bites glint bright, passing birds tip toward earth
While giggling current whirlpoolsround ledges of stone.
Natureís distraction shields the voice that can be felt
Bridging the fear of betrayal through painís prophet
An echoing answer to hazardous question.
I commit myself to the final destination
To untangle the thorns that listen with horror
And pierce the isolation that survives intact
A changeling that exchanges habit for habit.
I accept tired journey for in proper time
Restored and find my back to raging river.
The source which lives not to agree or disagree.
Where the voice heals wounds as it awakens
Forever, which verges on the first spoken word.
Loose itself to the vastness that learns in silence
Displacing emotions, bringing closure to loss.
Sanctioned by wishful conspiracy that now waits
Standing on the banks of the turbulent river.