Reaching For The Way

 

The hourglass stalks the blind man

While he keeps reaching for the way

A crocked finger pointing straight ahead

His dead eyes have no words to say

 

He has no planned path or destination

No count for all his losses and his wins

The journey takes him through himself

Beneath the angry halo of all his sins

 

A shadow cast upon onlooker’s eyes

That strain to turn toward any light

instead, they see dark foreboding clouds

Where crows plummet from their flight

 

The shepherd turns to count his flock

But, one by one, they slowly disappear

The grand sum amounts to nothingness

And nothing counts for nothing here

 

The spirit, a simple, lowly vagrant seeker

A prophet parched by winds of change

With senses soaking in pools of sorrow

That bathe the mundane with the strange

 

Truth writes its solemn. crippling lyrics

With notes that haunt the earthly bound

They’ll rise and fall, midst the harmonics

Convinced their answers can be found

 

Enlightenment, the foolish quest of mages

Conducted through drunken speculation

Their thoughts collide in mists of mayhem

Until they’re declared, divine revelation

 

But there’s so little left to fall back upon

Secrets shroud each hopeless coming day

The search continues, for one bright light

To send blind men reaching for the way

 

 s. paul