The Everlasting Truth

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Sounds come from distant places
and I press a kiss hard to the earth
hoping that she’ll listen to my plea.
The night is coming all too quickly
I hide in a deep recess in her room.
The mood is sullen, but I am awake
almost excited at the prospect
of waking next to her body.
The trees outside move,
several wind chimes have been disturbed,
it could be something menacing
so I go to investigate.
My love is standing barefoot
there under a 100 year-old tree.
The roots make it hard to stand steady,
she trips and falls and I watch.
Her once glorious gown
is all dark and muddy
she wallows and laughs
asking me to join her.
Hand outstretched and extended
it’s all too inviting,
to lie there in the mud with her,
altogether ignoring,
just how filthy dirty we’ve become.
Still, I turn towards an open door,
one that wasn’t there yesterday
and I creep around the corner.
The everlasting truth,
is born in all of us.
We inherently know our paths,
how willingly we travel from them.
I’ve guessed my limits are somewhat
more limited than all the rest.
I’m sure that’s why you have trouble
understanding the meanings in the poems.
Outside the next morning
there is absolutely no evidence
of a girl that was writhing.
Perhaps this is why I’m better off
not having gone along with her
there in cleansing mud,
so instead I’ll plant some flowers.
Someday, when we’re all said and gone
there will be this strong and handsome figure
a tree alone in a field
surrounded by beauties.
My everlasting truth is this
I trust the voice inside me.
I listen to the alarms,
so I can run even faster!
When it repeats,
I stop and pay attention.
It’s a delicate balance for sure,
the things we tend to believe or ignore.
Today I trust in this hour,
I’ve fought against the jealous moon
ignored the love-drawn attention.
Now, as the morning sun is upon us
I roll over and begin anew.

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