Marcy

There aren’t any answers,
For the questions never posed,
As we travel down a path,
That in truth we never chose,
the heart becomes a sign post,
But is it stop or is it go,
And is the only thing left inside,
A place we can not show.
 
 
All that lives inside the man,
Becomes an oasis that none can see,
Because with the constant weight of life,
The scars won’t let us free,
Guilt and pain can inundate us,
But do we buckle under it’s weight,
And is the answer to loneliness,
In time or just to late.
 
 
A dream becomes our common ground,
Yet we wonder where it lives,
But the heart offers up comfort,
In the compassion that it can give,
Dreams become a nightly host,
As the darkness holds it’s surprises,
As the mind seems to look and laugh,
Lost in all it surmises.
 
 
At times a blackness engulfs us,
But in the distance there’s always a light,
And as the shadows take their hold,
We lose our sense of sight,
The light beckons to our senses,
Though dim we can see it’s flicker,
As the aura of the light’s attraction,
Holds a mist that never grows thicker.
 
 
With silent desperation,
In the twinkling of an eye,
The heart becomes our master,
In a dream that can not die,
Each day we push ourselves forward,
That distant light becomes our friend,
And under the cloud of loneliness,
With all our might what do we defend.
 
 
As we approach that far off light,
In a large circle we have traveled,
And in the face of remembered love,
By our need are we unraveled,
We arrive at the place where the light shines from,
And it’s then that we realize,
It’s love that was shining all along,
And it emanates from deep inside.

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Barb Clarke
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