Can You Hear The Call

What would cost the world to hold?

To cleave unto your heart and soul…

What price – what treasure – would you give,

If only to forever live?

Will you then offer diamonds or glass,

To gather in such transient grasp…

The winds that bite and not refresh –

But make iced shivers in your flesh.

Or would you place upon the altar

– Of what gods you pray won’t falter –

Precious gifts of frankincense,

A metaphor for what makes sense…

To see that for the world to hold

even your soul cost more than gold…

For I have heard that it is written

That in a pearl great worth is hidden.

Why spend for that which does not feed –

Nor give to you those things you need?

But only takes what is not offered,

To line a tarnished velvet coffer…

And all the while you starve away,

For you do not see you are slaves –

Just going on about existence

Laying down in shallow graves…

I do not say I know all,

For I too have been in that hole –

Of memory and misery and sharp things in the dark –

I have walked the midnight hour and I have fell apart…

But what I see – it speaks to me,

And I must unbind these black seeds –

That germinate in fallow ground,

For we are lost and are not found!

So dying from the inside out – we can shed no tears,

As we cling, only to things – that bring up all our fears!

Is there none to rescue us – no one to bring respite?

I for one have had enough – I will stand up and fight!

So to the night let us farewell,

For we are no more in it’s spell.

The dawn is coming up for all –

Listen – quietly – in your soul –

It beckons you… can you hear the call?

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Buried Alive

I forget the exact steps that bore away the pain –

but I remember that I climbed up from a shallow grave…

For there my heart had buried what it could no more contain,

For there my heart had hidden deep the things I feared to name…

I closed my eyes and so I died to feeling it again…

 

But I with trembling, grasping hands broke free of grave and ground,

To find that I was lost enough to see what I had found –

That I had slept – but not in death – for I could hear the sound,

Of the heartbeat in my breast that these tears couldn’t drown –

Of the tattered remnants of a hope I had laid down…

 

I do not say that I am whole for that would be a lie,

But I have resurrected what I thought forever died –

For my own hands had carved the grave I carried deep inside…

And in it I lay down those things from which I sought to hide…

But it did not just take away the pain – it took my life –

 

The choice to now live again, is mine to decide.