night-very dark no stars or moon night
too far to see up the sky
and the darkness seldom lies
feeling manicly depressive wanting to cry and laugh
and neitheringly both
sit in the middle of my mind
wandering newly, wondering oldly and
not knowing
it's there is the pain of being
steps in the sand washed clean
and where are my feet anyway?
no, the darkness seldom lies- its here and felt and
truthfully knocking out the sky and scuffing the sand
so footprints cannot see but only listen-
balloons can't soar without strings and
what is a kite besides blue to find the sky when there is no sky?
and guitars are nothing, no thing only
without warm hands and eyes.
and why the hell are those mountains so high that the sea becomes
invisible?
Is visible only that within- that infinitly finite
green that makes the sand stick, the candles
burn forever?
Inside the flames lies the answers-
and we must burn our moth-wings
to know, to fly into the new green
of new hopes
on the hillside.
Jean Sanborn Soderquist