Eternal threads may all you be, as are we
But as you stroll out into day and into night
Upon walks of cement — and something else
Remember fondly not a time that, once upon
For time is as the sun, come ever-dawning
Let your mind fill with that there is now!
Wander not, thinking of yourself someone lost
Into every scene, all parts by writers unseen
Each of us is woven, as you too are indeed
Into this fabric, deeply, of dreams and hopes
Until you, in some day not of your choosing
Pass further onward, even perhaps to wander
Seeking again the ephemeral glimpses of truth
Which from your path prior here have led you
Fading in others’ eyes, as all who wander do
For they turn away, fearing to see stark insight
Seeing never water’s depths inside your eyes
Missing endless sunrises laid bare beneath
Until one day, in your own time then perhaps
No mirror will show you to be one they knew
Having cast aside all but truly singular selves
And turning you to face one last mirror still
Your life and all that you have left behind
Reflected there as a winding endless path
Suddenly straight, looked though and in upon
Coming unto these gates, you will so proclaim
To the fabric itself of this, world of all worlds
That you shall, unwilling, no threshold cross
Saving that, not unscathed you shall emerge
But burned to ash — Beyond! Becoming dust
Further knowledge upon this fool’s journey
Being wiser for the roads all have walked
Knowing that any whom would seek to hold us
Spent all their energies chasing only shadows
For each of us — as ever — elsewhere walks
Living always amongst your unaware forevers
Our dreaming, not cobwebs draped on somedays
But visions of sea and forest both unending
Shimmering desert past all horizon stretched
Fields of grasses, grains — no unsightly bones
We your Evers frolic in one world of worlds
And while we do give some unwarranted credit
For many names we would claim as ours alone
Uncounted people in shadows of us walking
We would count amongst you here — and hearing
Some who more than grasp at understanding
Parts that on this stage of your living memory
Have not players given their true full breath to
Those who we, once having talked it out with
Come to blows, and even chewed the fat with
We would welcome in our stories for forevers
Those you might catch, perhaps a glimpse of
Not quite, in all your mirrors, truly seeing
Around the edges until, in madness creeping
You find your way has, perhaps, been lost
Life in these shadows ours, not only moments
A world on cue, though, precisely scheduled
Save for this, some breaking news appearing
Alert the world! Wake all your sovereigns!
But not before their speeches are written
Genuine concerns, so skillfully directed
People around, are all of our parts playing
Scenes flow from one, then into another
Barely met lives seem faded in importance
One day you find, remember us fondly, we pray
Around you only friends and lovers gather
Save for when, and we ourselves do tremble
You do set aside a place and time for Evers
All around you gathered, those who someday
Playing only secret roles as great players
Writing not of their mad, fantastic visions
Having once been there, having seen your show
If from them flows nothing of new forevers
They dream of fragile things, becoming Nevers
(Source: myriadminutes.wordpress.com)
