Maybe it’s all the same?
We only come out of this
one way.
The stars we wish upon
die before our words reach them,
but we don’t stop wishing.
.
We look into each other’s eyes,
unless we’re wounded
and we hide.
No contract remains,
only the day
we leave this place.
Full your cup,
or run on empty.
Pour it in until it spills.
Turn the page of Revelations
and there you’ll find
there’s more than time to kill.
Vision is a haunting.
inspiration,
voices of the dead,
moving you up onward.
This is why they say,
“Don’t listen to the voices in your head.”
Try to run away, now.
Try to seek the sky.
Try to find the wisdom
waiting up on high.
Come and climb the mountain,
play “King of the Hill”.
You’ll learn on your ascension,
you have more than time to kill.
Standing on the summit,
bathed in golden light,
full of Serotonin,
low oxygen, dopamine high.
Do you find the wise man,
or the creature in the cave?
What if you discover
that they are one and the same?
Careful coming down, now.
All you have left is our name,
but you will get a new one,
when you get back again.
Crawling through
an open window,
or have you found a key
to the door?
An avenue to renew
your perceptions,
a way to step away
from life before.
We all get along fine
in this existence,
feel the momentum build,
but you’ll need something more,
the minute you admit
you have more than time to kill.
HG – 2021
