Thursday, May 8, 2014

Untitled Poem {Deeply Personal}

... Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

~ John Greenleaf Whittier

I met a man with a guitar today, echoes of St. Augustine reverberating in my brain as I walked through town, pleased at the cessation of rain.

The man strummed some clumsy chords, looked sheepishly at me as he faltered ... I said, "Hey, it's a start. That D wasn't bad." He handed me the guit-fiddle and I played a Townshend-style power chord, a nice open E ...

"Know any songs?," he asked.

"A few."

Something of sentimentality set in ... not for the past so much as for an imagined future.

With whom do we share the sensation of our tutelary spirit gently tugging us awake each morning? To whom do we impart the deeply buried treasures of an over-active mind? When do we shut our mouths and let life roll along inexorably to a bang or a whimper or a glorious apotheosis?

I performed "Our House" by CSNY. Bad idea. My tears began to flow when I reached the part about windows like fiery gems, only for you-oo-ooo ...

Fortunately, the day was gray and my tears were more like drops of molten lead than gems. But I suppose my eyes did resemble pearls ...

My voice -- an off-key, Dylanesque voice at the best of times -- faltered and faded and I handed back the instrument, and without a word returned to my bachelor's quarters, with a superfluous book on advanced calculus in my bag. Infinite zero indeed.

.....

What does one do when an old love has vanished, and an even older (more potent) love has returned at arm's length, as one emerges from self-imposed oblivion?

In the clear light of Aurora's infinite forgiveness, do we need an angel, a goddess, or a representative, perhaps, of the chthonic forces that infuse this world -- my world! -- with ascending life?

I know not what I need, but I know what I want. And, with a little courage -- which this over-stimulated, under-estimated man lacks -- I could possibly, probably, maybe, perhaps, with a little grace from above, below, or in-between -- or, better yet, right next to me! -- have ... her.

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