I Write Poetry
The Mountain and the Sea
Who can stand being a blank
A non-quality people can’t name
Something dark, shapeless and rank
The feared something suffused in shame?
Where to go when in a crowd and
Where's a place where soul speaks loud
Where is the juncture of them and me,
Where the power to just get free?
But if we climb our mountain and then look down
And see everyone still close around
What does it say about our quest
That we are still part of all the rest…?
But then I’ll concede that I am you
And he and she and all of us together
Though bound up by an eternal tether
What more to do than identify
With the swilling milieu, yet on the sly?
Still alone where some of us be…
All drops of humanity forming a sea,
But some drops are thrown up to renown
Misting the air or feeding the land
Or exposing a mountain
Where some climb up
And then look down
And never see another drown.
Who can stand being a blank
A non-quality people can’t name
Something dark, shapeless and rank
The feared something suffused in shame?
Where to go when in a crowd and
Where's a place where soul speaks loud
Where is the juncture of them and me,
Where the power to just get free?
But if we climb our mountain and then look down
And see everyone still close around
What does it say about our quest
That we are still part of all the rest…?
But then I’ll concede that I am you
And he and she and all of us together
Though bound up by an eternal tether
What more to do than identify
With the swilling milieu, yet on the sly?
Still alone where some of us be…
All drops of humanity forming a sea,
But some drops are thrown up to renown
Misting the air or feeding the land
Or exposing a mountain
Where some climb up
And then look down
And never see another drown.
