Wednesday, March 3, 2010


I am a solitary man. Alone, trapped, with only my thoughts to keep me company.
I am a wandering soul. Traveling, tearing at roots, floating untethered.
I am the silent one. Voice boxed in my voice box. Its dark prison is my mouth and my teeth are the bars.
I graze by lives, never connecting. Lightly alighting upon many never resting, never staying.
Like a dandelion seed blown in a dry land, I wander aimless.
I want to know more than gentle passings.
I want to experience more than a light touch.
Don't we all?
We are all floating like blind fairies in a gale.
Fate's wind throws us where it will.
We brush by each other and crash into one another.
I want you to stay.
Right here by my side.
For a minute, for an hour, for a day.
Just tell me where you are.
Show me who you are.
And I will come there and grasp you.
And maybe short roots will form.
Me to you, you to me.
And others could come.
Her to you.
Him to me.
And we could form a chain.
Not a net or web; thin and easily broken.
But a chain of lives connected, connecting.
Supporting, binding.
A chain of lives growing around the globe and filling it with hope.
I will hope.
Maybe one day we will do more than brush mutely by.

- F.L.

1 comment:

  1. "Voice boxed in my voice box."
    I like that.

    To apply it to all of us, you could write
    "Voices boxed in voice boxes."
    It's a tongue twister, but I like that even more...


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