Visions Of Truth

 There was a time when he thought

 that he began dying at age five,

 long before he fully understood

 that none of it mattered; because living and dying

 are simultaneous pursuits that only

 seem unconnected or looped to those that deny

 the visions of truth to ever enter

 their event filled, but strangely empty lives.

 

There was a time when he thought

 that he could never find a lover

 that would understand what was trapped and

 frame-less within him. He was still harboring

 such thoughts long after he met the one who held the key.

 

 There was a time when he lived with no fear,

 loved without fear, wrote with no fear,

 but now he could not say which was the biggest fear:

 those days long gone or their return.

 

There was a time when he thought

 he held some secret power,

 a force to change the world,

 a way to make them listen,

 but the more he listened to what they said,

 the more he read what they wrote,

 the more he watched what they did,

 the more he understood that what he held

 was neither secret or power, simply something

 they would never understand.  

 

   MJC