I exist on a continuous basis
in different places
hiding the innermost cadence
that appears note after
note in radiance transparent
in my teardrops drop movements
incoherent to most lost
souls that are using their eyes
as the finality of insight.
Contrite spirits walk with
jaded pieces of their heart
falling past the hem of
their garments decorating each
footprint with hope forgotten.
Forgotten rhythm. Forgotten passion.
The drum within them is fading.
The coldness is invading,
barricading them from
love's composition.
Isolating.
But I see them, then myself,
and I beat, LOUD, HARD,
for them, and myself. I dance
around the firedrums that burn
in me screaming prayers for
those who forgot, or
never knew. Each beat the
bitter water speaks from
the mirrors of me.
Reflecting messages in
each droplet in the stream.
"Grant peace
to these who need.
To these who plead in silence."
"Use me as an instrument
so I can implement the music;
the road to your door;
the password to your heart"
"Let my sorrow be not in vain,
my life of pain. Help me stand
on my purpose so I can watch
the eyes of rebirth surface"
"I submit to you, Composer,
erode me with your theory.
I want to understand your
signature"
My bitter notes will play
in puddles of music for elusive
souls that plug their hearts.
My Inspiration; my everlasting
fuel supply; the heartbeat
in my teardrops will provide
the lights
to the entrance.
To contentment.