it all leads back to you - Printable Version

it all leads back to you - Printable Version

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it all leads back to you - Dandeli - 11-09-2024

In some faraway memory I died brutally.

But by some chance, I escaped the lightless empty — these scuffed hands and fading breaths found the outline of your hand.

They shone and taught me a truth, even if you didn't realise it back then — that there is promise of sanctuary before all ends certain and unsure.

My eyes began to carve out shapes in the stars, drawing lines between those shining spots of heaven.

Your words shone when their light began to dim — how they reminded me here in this land where a thousand

thousand dreams may wilt before they ever bloom, those that do try are made all the more beautiful.

As long as those stars shone bright, that was okay.

I was free to be me in life, until my breaths returned to the land whence they came.

All thanks to you.

In some fresher memory, I saw a place where starlight no longer christened those ferried to the end.

Peculiarly it did not feel so bad to confront saying goodbye in such a place, even if no breathing man would wish it so.

When I was a young woman, the whispers of a dream slid my steps — protect the lives yet to be burdened with

the world's mistruths, so those little hands and little lives could chase their dreams.

Carve through liars, cutthroats, murderers — then carve them a piece of their own heaven.

All thanks to you.

Breaths felt bright in the face of end's toll — the rabble of life and the fleeting respite drove my hand.

You can never return to any particular waking moment, you can never return after you have

crossed the furthest edge — all are destined to meet their hour of farewell, with or without paradise.

In the face of guaranteed transience everything was made vivid — and in the face of certain dread,

my dream took it's place.

All thanks to you.

.. at some point,

I strayed far afield.

.. The tender tune of a whisper and a hand bid me home.

I remembered, again, then, that this life was not my own — and so did I hear that yearn.

So bright, unable to be of a purpose purer.

Fine-tuned by steps that have tread through blood and tar.

Joy found, even when you knew the story writ — an ending assured.

The rivers of fate stirred, a sweet dream lead astray from a shadowed grave.

Returned to a people loving, hopeful, pure..

.. the world would have it no other way.

All this thanks,

All this fortune,

All this life,

It all leads back to you.

not again!!! - Dandeli - 11-19-2024

... it is during times like these I remember,

How much the sweet of the rain is owed to you,

How much of the spring breeze is owed to you,

How much of this home caged in ice is owed to you,

How much of this misery is owed to me,

How much of this cyclic tale of do-good, do-bad is owed to me,

What do I do?

.. yours or mine; desire or duty?

.. faith or fealty; to turn coat or turn traitor?

.. heart or mind; dying or living?

Please help me,

I can't decide in this empty room.

.. some voices,

my own people,
wish this forlorn fool gone,

please stop whispering,

I'm trying for you.