Poetry For Everyday People
The Seekers
There's an invisible
wait that seems constant
in all our lives,
something we're
waiting for, on,
not quiet sure
what it is?
but we wait,
we long for it
as we stare out
at stars of old
souls shinning,
maybe it's a miracle,
or a glimpse of one,
or a hint, of something
much more than we
can touch, something
beyond the hands of
humanity,
still pure,
untainted,
a far magic,
we wait,
following our hearts,
minds, desires, needs,
we wait ritualistically,
not knowing,
what seems to elude
our lives,
and unable to capture
this magic,
we wait, feeling
somehow we're
suppose to, that
it's a possible key,
maybe we can meditate
our way to it, yoga
our way to it, alter
our minds to get to it,
free our insides of guilt
to find it,
we search in mirrors,
in all religions, we talk
to god, to ourselves, we
read, listen, dig the monkeys
and think,
candles in the dark
flickering in our
lonely eyes, as we
sip wine, blow smoke
searching for the magic
in it, as it curls like
a snake in the air,
tossing and turning
all night, pacing,
keeping our minds in
check is like keeping
our sex in check, the
illusion slides in and
out of us daily as we
pretend we don't feel
it anymore,
we wait,
between the lines.
wait that seems constant
in all our lives,
something we're
waiting for, on,
not quiet sure
what it is?
but we wait,
we long for it
as we stare out
at stars of old
souls shinning,
maybe it's a miracle,
or a glimpse of one,
or a hint, of something
much more than we
can touch, something
beyond the hands of
humanity,
still pure,
untainted,
a far magic,
we wait,
following our hearts,
minds, desires, needs,
we wait ritualistically,
not knowing,
what seems to elude
our lives,
and unable to capture
this magic,
we wait, feeling
somehow we're
suppose to, that
it's a possible key,
maybe we can meditate
our way to it, yoga
our way to it, alter
our minds to get to it,
free our insides of guilt
to find it,
we search in mirrors,
in all religions, we talk
to god, to ourselves, we
read, listen, dig the monkeys
and think,
candles in the dark
flickering in our
lonely eyes, as we
sip wine, blow smoke
searching for the magic
in it, as it curls like
a snake in the air,
tossing and turning
all night, pacing,
keeping our minds in
check is like keeping
our sex in check, the
illusion slides in and
out of us daily as we
pretend we don't feel
it anymore,
we wait,
between the lines.
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The Seekers
The Seekers
