साहित्य शनिबार-

A Gold Clock Lone

Brian Brinker:
(Michigan)

Black dawn broke uneven horizons,
Freed from body, bound to soul,
I slipped into sanctuary
Among shrouded idiosyncrasies.
Light emanated from unseen sources.
Showering unto shaded tones
Lifting the tenebrous veil on a barren landscape

Before me lay infinite empty.
Pilgrim to the distance, I walked

My travels were intertwined with vagrance,
Hollow wisdom incognito with decadence decrepit.
No goals to strive for, no reason to exist
Judgment cast to the wind

Striking against desolation flat stood a gold clock lone
Her slender body dipped into the fallen sky
Necked on rest, a most magnanimous dial
Shining dull against the bleak
Gilded hands long since strangled in dead limp
Retired by times inevitable rust.

Moving on I found a forest of glass,
Delicately tangled into intricate confusion
And upon the shards perched uncountable owls
Gleaming eyes scouted without relent,
Youthful ideals unsheathed by ancient logic

“Who are you?” challenged one
“Who who, who are you” called the rest
Knowing not the answer I held silence fast
Then the great birds repeated, “ Who are you?”
“Who who, who are you?”
With no answer to pledge
I tried to traverse the endless forest,
The question was consuming my sanity
Running quick, legs blurred
Moving my weary body along a smooth path.

From the thick of crystal wood
An exquisite bridge stood across a great abyss,
Escape from the numbing inquisition.
But within presence the transverse disappeared.
Fleeting hope brought about crashing ground.

My ears throbbed under the swelling tide of emotion
As the pantheon of birds continued their solemn cant
What response to offer this insatiable question?
Is it not through action that being is determined?
Has not my whole life been a testimony of who I am?
Answer muttered to now stagnant air.

In newfound still absence
I tried to fathom how a bridge could just vanish?
Was it a mirage that eluded my grasp?
Like all other aspirations before it?
Getting up, I peered into the chasm
And stepped into oblivion……..

Falling not, I walked,
Realizations that the bridge was indeed but a dream,
And the gorge was just my fanciful insecurities.
One conquered bloomed the other.

The other side reached, I discovered a of oak
Destination revealed, I pushed into the Oaks mighty chest.
But submit to me they would not.
Stubborn strives forward were to no avail

Malicious ambiance gained the full of my body.
Vehement hands clashed the wood furiously.
Refusing to accept the line, Oaks will unbent.
My emotions were dragged into untenable despair.
On the verge of submitting to forever pandemonium.
I submersed my conscience in soothing tranquility,
Eyes fell shut, placid request exerted gently upon the gates
And slowly the wood creaked to desire

Intentions not deterred I stepped forth.
For the first, I opened my eyes in tune with thought
Ascending towards epiphany
A colossus pinnacle of light began to cultivate,
Consuming an entire reality before vicinity.
And peering back into the hallowed sanctum,
I realized all that had fallen in wake were life’s obstacles
And all that lay before, were life’s possibilities.

This writer is a Preventative Health-Education Specialist
at the Refugee Services, Lansing, Michigan.

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One Response

  1. good poem. the word are arranged in an excellent way i like it.

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