I had opened my eyes for the very first time,
to a room darker than any I’ve ever been.
And although I couldn’t see a thing,
my movements were led by bell chimes,
and the pulsing strings of violins.
My first breath of air followed a light,
that proved I’ve been seeing all along.
The spans of the light reached four corners,
and remarkable heights.
And the rogue notes that plagued the room,
harmonized together into a song.
Whenever I tried, I made out your silhouette.
And as time went by, you materialized.
And you were real,
and you presented me with no debt.
Your birth gave me religion,
in which I am baptized.
Because I have no discipline to wait,
I reached out my arms to hold your waist.
And just before I touched my tangible fate,
you began to dispel at an alarming rate.
My arms went through you like you were air.
Every step I took forward, you leapt back.
Every movement I made,
made your appearance increasingly fair.
The more transparent you became,
the more I feared the room will return to black.
In a moment of desperation, I lept towards you.
I pushed you in all directions like mist.
I stood up and looked around a sky of blue,
and grasses of green, and creatures running swift.
I familiarized myself with a world
my mind could finally drift.
Yet, there was no room for celebration
because you were nowhere to be found.
Everywhere in God’s creation,
I searched to see if you were around.
I ignored the happiness surrounding me,
like it was still darkness I could see.
If there is no you,
there is simply no me.
Almost suddenly, a licorice road
unfolded in front of me.
And although there has not been
a word from God or a promise from men,
I walk the road and it’s every bend.
I walk the road awaiting you at the end.
A fool to wander unaccompanied
into a vast land for a remedy
to fix the loneliness of being born in the dark
with only the bright light justifying
a lonesome embark.
Embarking into the unknown
for a love, for a life I can hone,
for myself, for my ego, for my worth.
Hunger was threaded at birth.
Being lost is the only art I preserve.
And if I wasn't lost at anytime,
it's when I heard the bell chime
and the words rhyme
before the light went away.
Illuminated by what light meant to say.
- END -