At the Crossroads
by Charlie Morgan
grabbin' my pen,
hopin' that when
i pick it up
i'll have some luck
gettin' my heart
to do a jump-start.
and my gray matter, too
will send words through,
and cease this dearth of words
that causes me to be unheard
and brings my own oceans of frowns
in which i may drown.
i'm a Tell without an apple, a scaler without a grapple.
i'm a world with no spin, a pack with no den.
i'm a sea with no shells, Notre Dame with no bells.
i'm a park with no lovers, a dragonfly that can't hover.
Oh, i plead: Bigger than big, Taller than tall
lift me out of Poe's woeful pit, nudge me & renew my wit.
and i promise i won't bemoan too long, this jaunt i'm on.
i'll shake off this wordless state; 'tis not my fate.
i'll ponder and muse, use my past if i have to.
and get on that tight-wire again with my worldly ken,
and once again, i'll soar and soar & meet the golden door.
03/29/2005