Aches & Panes
Palm to the glass,
Contact
A film
What lies between.
Cold beneath my fingers
The heat of my being
Funneling to the
Pane beneath my palm
Spreading,
The window before my eyes
The world,
Unlocked.
Sutro Tower,
The sky piercer
Atop the wooded hump,
A hub of reception, yes,
But all I need is
Before me,
The curtain lifted,
I am free
Who’s on the other side?
Hard helmeted worker bees,
Giving us electricity?
Are there giggling families,
College scavenger hunts & shenanigans,
Deeper than that,
Truer than this,
My present,
I reach beyond myself
& dig within,
The white hot fire
To do good,
Fueling my
Forward-moving meaning
To be the hand ladder,
Bridge for those
With no windows,
Those who don’t
Feel the sun streaming
Into each pore
Of their faces.
My hand firmly against
The window,
I have
Contact,
With my lifelong
Dream,
Set on an eternal
Platter,
Right before me
Empowered, not weak
Free, not shackled
The gears and wheels,
With which issues,
My mind tackles &,
My thoughts propelled,
Reach.
Beyond this window,
Grasping myself,
Charting
My missions, it is
Through the merging of
Sides of the screen,
The time when
I see out
I see in, collecting
Reflections and
Absorptive depth
Alike,
The pane of progress is,
As such
Composed.
Giving life to
Masterpieces
Of meaning,
My core beaming,
The window
That conductive film,
Beckoning, gleaming.
