Thus Spoke the Shape-Shifter | Poem
Thus spoke the man whose wilted words have shaped an age of truth
Thus spoke the man whose oldest thoughts have shifted my point of view
Thus spoke the man who’s found a way to shatter what I think of you
Thus spoke the man whose deft, old hands have whittled me down to bone
Thus spoke the man whose darker thoughts have made themselves at home
Thus spoke the man whose careful words cast out the first stone
II. [The Revelation]
We come to these points,
These moments of such meaning
Only to find them bereft of anything
We search so long
For a purpose of our being
Only to find that the answer never comes
But in my mind I’ve fought to keep on clinging
To a dream in which this is an emptiness
I’ve never known
I’ve walked all along the sandy shore
In hopes I’d feel it there
I’ve sat in the woods under the shade of leaves
Thinking that I shouldn’t even care
I gazed into the freckled black of night,
Into the space between space
Like many of us I’ve looked to the heavens
Connecting lines when there’s nothing there to trace
I ran into the arms of mountains,
Alone, believing that I was home
But I’ve found that in company of others
It’s closer there than any place I’ve ever known
When I’d let up the chase I felt the subtle touch of grace remove the crown of want from my strands of hair.
Did we really kill the image, as it were, in the eye?
With every chance to salvage reason you put forth another alibi.
Will we ever let go of the traditions that we hold?
Maybe when there’s one man left to mourn over how it did unfold.
All we’ll be is just an afterimage, as it were, in the eye of whoever follows the age of man.
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