O Seer
One day I will be gone
and you will know then,
how it was
and how it might have been,
but then, will be then
and not now,
before that appointed day,
is now in my eyes.
How so, quickly it passed?
We slid over
and nailed down that lid.
To exclude light, to shun contact,
for what?
Was it all for nought, oblivious gaze?
Of all I behold, of all belief
I might venerate, that,
is not, will not ever, be me,
so closed for little gain.
Not even in the long furrow of it
will you see repose in your bones.
Chill does what it says,
goes to the marrow.
You will not find enough forest
to roam endlessly,
for kindling and dry block wood,
that would alleviate your stated
and locked down position.
If any wisdom comes,
at all,
it must be that we drop, to ground,
these lofty concepts,
seperation, closeness, distance.
All bounded in some rigid expectation
of each unit, of each others measure.
Be free, it's the only way with any, clarity, sanity.
A little madness we had, o seer.