Elucidating Questions

Lost on need splendoured.

The mountains call from far off,

Hills rolling thunderous in the distance.

The white plume, a soft white fur, the reminder that it was satire,

But the story is still sad. The poker face of the joker, the shock of the ringing in the ear.

The blue flowers blooming on the side of a rock.

Either way the same, like a piece of them each.

A beat like the clock ticking away, slipping into the rhythm of the day.

Holding on to the beat, trying to keep it without the cracks,

Thinking of something, someone, and anything.

Seeing the scars of the earth hurts, and keeping them held together means so much more than ever was believed,

But she’s beautiful.

So many questions, so few answers.

So many people hurting, so little action.

So many fears, so many tears.

It’s been so many times now, the children are marching. The crusade of the young.

Trying to save their own lives, when the grown won’t.

If they won’t save and protect the future, who will?

And if they won’t save and protect the future, what will be left?

Where to turn to when the guns have more value than human life?

Never will it make sense, how it could have become this way.

Will he run for the head of it, or take from underneath?

Trying to find the Achilles heel, how to disarm the monster, the enabler of the war.

If only there could be peace, humans living as equal, community. The unity of those in common, which is every one of us.

We all have any least one thing in common.

And we should, we could, we have to try,

There has to be something beyond this, the world split by lines that create barriers of knowledge, humanity, and life.

But children are dying, where they should be learning and the answer is to draw more, carry more, more of the killer.

Creating a state of fear, creating fame, infamy, for the killer,

While mothers and fathers bury their children.

Why are mothers and fathers burying their babies?

The children don’t feel safe, why can’t the children feel safe?

No child should have to give to feed the pockets of the greedy.

I can only imagine the strain, of being known.

I can only imagine the stress, of producing something worth it.

I can only imagine what you go through, I can only think of you, and think of your family.

I think you have a beautiful family.

I think you’re all beautiful.

I, as one person, cannot buy every album off the shelf, but if I could I would buy every one until I could send you to platinum and share your music to everyone

You’re so much of me,

Even though we’re not the same.

If love is enough, I send it when I am able,

The right words don’t come out,

And I did that one thing,

That thing everyone hates,

When someone approaches claiming to know everything when they know nothing.

It took me this long, this stumbling mess,

To realise I did that,

And too much else,

And that unless read aloud by the one two wrote it,

Much would be read out of context.

I never meant anything to hurt you, I never meant anything to cause pain,

And I love you.

Even when my heart is afraid to love.

You shine so bright I can barely look, the fear of flying too close to the flame,

So far away, but so close.

Following my heart leads to one direction, it’s always that direction.

Going there could make it better or worse,

But I know this, I know this well,

I do love you, I have made mistakes,

And I will always support, as I can.

Something’s got to give, and it’s me.

Can’t stay trapped on this boat in the ocean,

The slowly moving lands we live on.

After the seeds are planted, destiny comes,

But without the right guidance, it’s just the same story,

Of the young used as the pawns of the old.

Taking some freedom, knowing the cost,

I need it like I need you,

Like the air I breathe.

In the swirl of the night, in the plume of the midnight birds,

The crickets begin wakening, the screamers will start to scream.

The nostalgia of sounds so loud they drown out all else, but the sound of music.

In any place, busy or empty, they sing, they scream.

Listening to them on the side of a hill, in the midst of the city, far into the mountains.

Resting weary travellers finding places to go and places to see,

Without having no together there is no we.

Simply a solo continued in the black of night,

On legs aching tired, and mind run dry.

The weary I hope sleep sound tonight.

It can be hard to hear, above the waves, but the wind carries the whispers of many a far away place.

Traveller’s gaze and trickster’s coin,

Choosing the direction we may be going.