Lugh’s Garden

I’ve used up all the seasons,
And the waterfalls, babbling brooks,
Lakes and oceans, and the clouds,
I’ve used them up too.
Now they’re just great masses,
White and grey, moving across a blue sky.

I’ve twisted words around every
Image I thought I saw,
Trying to draw the right picture,
Send the right message,
But their staleness let them crumble,
Even as I watched them form.

My pen’s run dry,
And the paper stays blank,
No matter how much I scratch at it.
I feel like a desire that can’t find
Something to focus on,
A hunger that can’t find a flavor.

“I love you”, was a lifetime ago,
No, a dozen lifetimes ago,
All the I love you’s of my life,
Like seeds, rattling in a dried gourd,
Their dryness mocking me,
For thinking they had life,
Sitting by the brooks and waterfalls,
Watching the damned clouds.