All our eyes have seen all that lives and breathes along with each beloved face written in the stars, and now we should let the day just begin. With all coming face to face as distant thunder can be heard rolling out on the horizon, as we sit here as travelers out on this open road looking for that place where sorrow dies.
It’s for myself and for my friends that my stories are spun with no words being possessed by no special friend. As the curtain is drawn and our eyes must meet the dark light of the dawn, to see the day and upon time we all depend on, with us one day meeting up again on the avenue. They have said that the darkest hour is the one before the false dawn, and sometimes you wouldn’t know that from me, for I have always seemed to have danced to the beat of a different drum and been searching for the real thing. Still you are the magic who keeps the spirit alive and holding on while dancing in the rain and in the moonlight attempting to touch a rising star.
Usually it seems as though we have spent time just awaiting a simple twist of fate, as I wonder if you ever took that hand when you had the chance or did you just waste your precious time? But, then I don’t know where we come from and where we are going to, and if all this should have a reason we would be the last to know. I know there are times when you feel like you are going down like a teacup caught in a tempest, and in the middle of it all you realise that it is all uncharted as the colours all fade, with all those things behind you. Having had people telling me it’s a sin for knowing and feeling too much within and has me occasionally wondering if it has always been me I’ve been looking for?
We all have a face we hide away and are the faces of the stranger that lives in all of us along with the secrets we carry that no one knows, and we have all been there. It all makes for some confusion in this grand illusion, and usually there is no one out here on these roads as I wonder if you want to be either an angel or a poet? From my experience, it seems that most things get so intense, and it seems like engines won’t turn and the trains won’t leave the station. The way I feel is the way I write and follow my pen for the ride with my heartbeat keepin’ time against the rhythm and rush that leaves most empty in a world gone mean. Watching the new day break and the morning rise and doing all to stay alive, with there being things no one knows and sometimes no place to run.
These aren’t the thoughts of a man who lies, and I know the truth is on my side and will continue heading on down the line going where the Tao directs each moment to connect and flow. When the dark light of the new day arrives is when you need to open your eyes and you might see me standing in the doorway as the jukebox plays the blues as the day seems to move to slow. Or will stand there cryin’ under the light of the midnight moon? There are things I could say but I won’t and I should be riding on that midnight train possibly like a fool who knows the mercy of God is near. As the seasons change will you remember me? When it seems, I have nothing left except for the fight and remember who you are and know that every foe I fought the reasons were always before it came, along with every cause I fought for I did without regret or shame.
My name is nothing and my age means less, with there being some confusion I feel at times that no tongue can tell and at times leaves me as weary as Hell when the words fill my head and makes me want to fall to the floor.
Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. May 2017 – 36
