~
I am carved glass
that cannot stop singing in this wind.
Where did I leave my self?
How did I become yours?
Do I miss what was, what seemed to be?
Light streams though me,
blinding this thought.
*
I feel the cold wind
carve through my dreams
scattering the pieces placed
by a fractured self.
This fellow can't help
but claim everything as his own.
*
When the world is too bright
I cannot see inside.
Give me a night
to match that dark depth
that rests my soul.
*
I am the minute
it takes to read this poem.
Emerging from darkness.
Ordinary, yet astonishing.
Straining to voice its origin.
Creating meaning from memory.
All the while,
slowly losing the pieces
that made the words
that made the man.
Words
sliding into darkness
faltering with me
becoming edgeless inside.
*
My self is burning,
drawn by gravity into this atmosphere,
leaving a trail of living
that fades,
even as I return
to my origin.
*
I've been here forever
and in another place as well,
that holds eternity
as I hold snow in my hand --
melting me over and over.
*
To touch another is heartache.
This gulf separating
hand and hand
mind and mind
is only crossed alone.
Love is the eye,
the turning,
the within.
Shawn Nevins
