Lugh’s Garden

Walking by a pub,
As twilight begins to fade,
The voices inside,
Remind me that some journeys
Can only be made alone.

It was just a track,
A footprint on the soft ground.
But where was it’s twin?
Where was its mirror image,
That one that gave it balance?
No, it was alone,
And alone, it begged questions.
How had it come here,
This most solitary foot,
On a solitary leg?
And what else above,
Was there just half a body,
Perhaps, half a heart?
And of the soul, only half?
If so, how could it exist?
Can half a soul love,
Or half a heart keep beating?
Is the strength of dreams,
Or the warmth of fantasies
Enough to balance a life?

Too many questions,
For just one little track
That will disappear
Into the earth, with the rain,
And from memory, with time.

Like children, singing songs they’ve learned by rote,
Their words, just simple noises set to rhyme,
Each day we don an old familiar coat,
And step out on the stage just one more time.
We’ve learned to play our parts with style and grace,
Each line delivered like it was our own,
A finely crafted mask, to hide our face,
An ending for the play, we’ve always known.
If Pierrot should pine for Pierrette,
Or Cyrano should die for fair Roxanne,
What matter that our tears should fall, for yet,
We know it’s part of some celestial plan.
And thus, the play of life goes on unchanged,
Our choices, by the fates, all prearranged.

All my words have gone,
Perhaps on a vacation.
They just left me here.
I would go looking for them,
But it’s better just to wait.

The mask I wear is one of words;
Not fashioned to deceive,
But simply to reveal a soul,
To those who might believe,
The measure of a man lies not
Within his earthly frame,
That all too quickly fades into
The Earth, from whence it came.

I live within a hopeless shell,
That time and life conspire
To grind upon the rocks of fate,
To quench its inner fire.
Though weight of years may bear me down,
And time may dim my eye,
Beneath the scars, a new fire burns,
My passion will not die.

To those who view this twisted wreck,
And quickly turn aside,
My words have failed, I wish you well,
I know, at least, I’ve tried.
A day will come, it does for all,
When beauty’s worn and thin,
You’ll pray your mask of words will show,
The brighter soul within.