Vines

vines, alone, death, struggle, living

I felt your smile like an apple

with a worm

popping its head out.

I smelled your gaze as the

morning waves crashed

on the shore rocks.

I heard your mind sing out loud

and it tasted like cheap wine

as

your vines crawled up my

spine.

yet, you were not here in body.

My dear troubled soul,

I cannot know your pain,

as you can’t feel mine.

we are forever

separate parts of a

lonely empty universe.

there are as many realities

as there are people like us.

but, thoughts and sensations

are not proof of existence

nor do they last…

the moment we experience them

they become distant memories

we will never touch again.

yet, we are more alike than not.

we see life

by our own slant.

we all live,

we all die.

and, as we briefly met in

this mirage called life,

we shall meet again.

no one knows what’s in store

for us,

because

no one comes back alive to tell.

yes, there are stories told,

and they may see a glimpse

of what’s to come.

some are sent back

here again

for one reason or another.

but, we will never know the truth

until we see for ourselves,

leave our bodies

and have to stay

there.

it’s a crying

shame

we never take things at face value

expecting more from living

than it gives.

it is when we know our

life is nearly over we celebrate

life itself.

but, there is more than living

at stake…

it is in dying.

now, you know there is more to life.

a beginning, a middle and an end…

we all know at

which point we

have

made it to,

and dread the

coming

coldness

of the unknown.

So, breathe deeply for those

not here anymore,

as those

who remain

will breathe for us

after we both

are gone…

take heart

my friend,

for we both will

be joining

billions of our

fellow

ancestors

who have already

long braved this crooked

path

A L O N E…

it is not like

we are the first

to go to our

own hanging

rope

swinging

and choking

or guillotine

blade

with our heads

falling in a basket below.

maybe, the

old ones

who’ve departed

long ago

will be

there

waiting with

open arms

to soothe

and comfort

us the day this

dreary blanket

of solitude

we call

‘transition’

descends

covering

our heads.

 

 

Advertisements

Author: Steven Humphreys

I have long been married and currently write posts every day about health and wellness and poetry. I have authored several books currently for sale at the popular outlets. I hope you like my blog finding my articles informative as well as entertaining. Feel free to let me know what you think. You can read more 'about me' on this site. Thanks for stopping by!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s