No fame
under stadium lights
to crave,
but only that warm embrace
of home.
Can I tell you,
I used to seek
knowledge in high places,
sewer secrets,
but now,
there is only the dawn.
Classic fall
of the big dreamer.
Icarus’ wings
have nothing on me.
Dreams are only
the fine, gossamer framework
that fools like me
attempt to hang their world upon.
By the time it is falling,
we are already mourning.
By the time it smashes to the ground,
we are already weaving new.
Spinning spiders
in my head,
catching shadows
and holding them up
to the golden, morning Sun
to see
if they are real, indeed.
Always empty handed.
Spent.
Nothing left to do,
but pick up the sword,
or shovel,
or pen
and get back to work.
Build the world anew
every single day.
Hoping to catch
some rare essence,
some truth of life.
Mana from Heaven.
Divine, cosmic purpose.
Throwing my dreams
up, into the sky
to see if they’ll fly.
.
HG – 2022
