Roots and Roadways

It can be difficult, even when things are going well, to not get our wires crossed or follow those paths we are most tempted to follow. We get stuck on repetition. Trying to navigate to a better future can sometimes leave us feeling out of touch with ourselves and the rest of the world.

Roots and Roadways

Sorry I've been so out of touch

I've been swimming on a sea

Still sailing on the edges

Fringes of sunrise fleeting

Tearing out these desiccated wires

Crossing over these crossed out desires

Sands across this surface are on fire

And I find my heart wandering again

Taking tangled neurons by the handful

And trying to just put back the stars

With each errant new constellation failing

To connect the proper dots

A crimson world thick with dead veins

Roots and roadways of a wasted youth

Useless thoughts consumed in idle idolatry

And these never-healing wounds

Apologies for not being myself

Afraid I may have conjured these palpitations

Attempting to disarm these detonating feelings

Convinced that I could do the calculations

How could I possibly come to recall

All the places that my train of thought left off?

How these failures manifest and then

Exponential they start to multiply

Trying to save an Eden unfulfilled

Drowning fantasies like sinking ships

Split in two and down into the depths

A voyage doomed from the outset

Still channeling out this SOS

Strong pulses and dark reflections

Trying to find the strength to love myself

Seeking a clear sense of direction

Fishing up these old wrecks

Servers dedicated to failures ancient

Ice bergs dead ahead

Steered toward trauma I cannot forget

Sorry it seems so complicated

With every fiber of my being

I wish I could peel back these layers

And maybe just be me

So much beauty in this hostile land

The stark azure sky swallows me up

I'd build a home out on this ice

And warm this world for both of us

But if this forest is to thrive here

If these clouds are to be broken

I must disarm this before midnight

Convinced of my own navigation

Scribbling these febrile screeds

Call it automatic writing

Heart filled with head-empty theosophy

Ghosts still hungry, haunting

Apologies if this feels faint

On my back remembering the sight

Of stars above and doors beneath

And the rhythm of the sunrise

Pathology of these wandering tunes

Wafting messages in moonlight

Lost in the lunar dunes without a map

I buried my love but I can find it

If your eyes find this bottle

If by some miracle you've scrolled

If my brain I've managed to hot-wire

Sorry I've been out of touch