by Steven Craig

once upon a time, rita discovered that she thought differently from the rest.

or so she thought.

for one day, she discovered that there were others.

many others.

there is a reason why, there always is, and when you go out to look for it, often you find something entirely different, not because you found it, but because you were there.

no one else

just you

here you are, still hand on the gate latch, opening the boundary to the undiscovered country, where both the sun and the moon light the paths, but never reveal it all.

the clouds of ignorance are slow to blow away, their horizon is distant, and it is that far, brave horizon to which you will attempt to venture.

many clouds wills conceal the path.

many clouds will block your way.

many clouds will frighten you

but they are only clouds

and you they do not command.

so you move in the dream, each day less ignorant, each day more curious, each day a brink, a stone, a grain more complete.

for no knowledge and passion is ever handed out in heaps
to consume as in France.

the ration of knowledge is tenuous and always indistinct

until you open your heart, open your mind, open your joy to that you will always submit to.

it is still time to be you, for a little while

but the child is disappearing

the woman is arriving

the slave is budding

who would now hold you back on such a journey

where even the blowing leaves hasten you on

who now would ever alter that path

where the stones you tread are as diamonds to your mind

where would you go if you were not to stay

where they will find you chained in joy at the end of your days.


Posted on 07/13/2013
Copyright © 2020 Steven Craig

Return to the Previous Page Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2020 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)