Any minute now my ship is coming in…
I’ll keep checking the horizon
And I’ll stand on the bow
And feel the waves come crashing…
Come crashing down, down, down on me…
~Opening to Colin Hay’s Waiting For My Real Life to Begin



Perhaps I seem complacent
For my immobility
Standing, fixed, upon the shore
Of inconsistency.
But I can see the horizon
When I'm looking to the sky
And though it never seems quite clear
I know, for certain, why.

The stillness of the water
Is only an illusion
And its surface a conundrum
That leads then to confusion.
For truly, I reside with others
In the deep, dark underneath
Where thoughts forever bubble up
But secrets, always, keep.

There, the echoes are distorted
And sounds intensify
And everything gets tossed about
When ships go sailing by.
And we, the keepers of the deep,
Know this fact all too well
What's resting there upon the shore
Are empty, outer shells.

In truth, we are segmented
For some benefit
With eyes eternally on the sky,
And dreams we can’t admit.
Our feet linger there on the sand,
Our souls drift into the blue
Our hearts, just below the surface,
Are hidden from your view.

Perhaps, from your perspective
It doesn’t make much sense
But this, a poet’s inclination,
Is our one defense
Against a world that does not know
The enormity of dreams
And those that cannot understand
That we're more than we may seem.



On a clear day
I can see, see for a long way
Yeh, on a clear day…
I can see, see a very long way.
~Conclusion of Hay’s song





Subsequently added author's note (upon having a conversation about this): If your read concluded with a thought similar to "So, uh... where exactly does the yelling come in, Snem?"... I wouldn't be terribly surprised. My sort of screaming, my rebel yelling, doesn't usually read as loud as one might expect it would. But, it is there... just below the surface, which is precisely the way I prefer it. *wink* ~Snem



Copyright © Silent-No-More ... [ 2006-05-20 12:57:08]
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