They Chose

A siren calling, deep within the heat
of dried up lands. The long grass swayed
through yet another day and night of heated,
blind vibrations. From east to west, the vision
was the same. An inner heat, that never
could be tamed.

More powerful than only instinct could provide.
It eased its way into their weary minds.
Down-home country blues that sang
themselves into the icy moods of yet another
northern winter's scape. Depression altered
all the living space they'd once assumed.

In an undercurrent that was overwhelming.
Secretly, it stole the brightness of their dreams away.
The night no more than tossing, turning times
between the days. While all the best they might
have been, drifts back in time untold. No matter
how they seek to hold to that which brought
them comfort in the past. The dice were cast,
and there, the aberration came to life.

Math deceived, in its complexities.
Uncounted feelings stole into the very cells
of flesh once formed to be a living temple.
The sacristy imploded when the money lenders
entered there again. For Christ himself had risen up
to that great heaven of delinquency in distance.
While in his rising, all the power of the love
that he'd enforced, was lost within a scattering
of stars too far removed from where we are.

While the earth conceived another pattern,
hidden in their memories of bliss. Soft
and subtle, one abiding kiss would touch,
so softly on their brows. For every moment
now that they conceived as so enlightening,
another moment grew as if from seeds,
unending in their multiplicity. Until confusion
spanned the wild country lying in between
the feel of heart and all the torture of beliefs
that tore apart, but never gathered any better
in their stead.

Masculine - the strength of their approach.
Ever altered by the she that lived within.
The world was made to spin too fast,
as the golden path wound up the mountainside.
A heightened feel of mind, within the sparseness
that they held as attitude in what they sought.
Like divers in the deepest depths of seas
that never were created for their forms.
What then of that, their other half -
the feminine...?

Taken for granted, the rush and the roar,
of time that moves too fast to be appreciated
in its form of base experience. Implanted
by a sublimation of the meanest kind.
Their minds become no more than just
another incantation of a magic drawn
directly from the deepest, darkest realms.
So simple the equations seemed to them.
Until the rush and roar of their emotions
sent them tumbling to the hell of their
own making.

Just then, another siren called to them
from deep within the heat of dried up lands.
The long grass swayed through yet another
crackling day and night of overheated,
blind vibrations. From east to west,
the vision was the same. An inner heat,
that never had been tamed. The spore
still lived within the threads of their forlorn
yet all too oft' imaged fantasies of power.

A whispering - a song within the wind.
Playing ever through their dreams.
Tapping, tapping - wishing that another
door might open now into eternity.
But she never could be found within
their telescopic sights. The moon
was lit by sunlight too severe for them
to see. The siren dwelt within serenity.
Her song, a living memory, of love
hey chose to throw away again...

? Michaelette ?

8/13/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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