Questions

The night is young
And the spirit fresh;
“Dream” the voice screams.
I fall asleep in
My waking consciousness;
Swirling though
The innumerable recesses
Of my mind,
I strain to hear the voice
Again;
A voice that bespoke of
Alternate realms,
A drowsy concoction
Of globins and fairies,
Dingy dungeons
And sparkling meadows.

I lust
After that mirage
Of perfect bliss;
Futile it seems,
The cynical rhetoric
Burning my smile
To vapour dust.

I can see,
But cannot feel;
I can walk,
But cannot fall;
I can fly,
But cannot soar;
I can dream,
But cannot touch;
I hurt inside,
But cannot love.

The greatest tragedy-
To see the depths
Of ecstasy,
To know the pleasure
Of tenderness,
To endure the pain
Of letting go,
To feel the elation
Of the retrieved kiss.
To learn to love
And to leave,
Hoping fervently
That one moment
Of space
Would fill the gaps
Forever.

An interlude
That neither
Fills me
With wisdom,
Nor throws me
Into grief;
Merely frays
My nerves
Into ambiguity,
Pushing me further
Into myself.

I long to behold
The key.
Answers to my life
That lay asleep
In its wake.

Is denial
A reaction to happiness,
Or mediocrity
The path to contentment,
Is vulnerability
A necessary frailty
Of love,
Or ambiguity
The answer to security.

When I find the one,
The kindred spirit
I long to call my own,
Can I shed my inhibitions,
And learn to love
Without regret.
In the depths of this love,
Can I make myself
Whole again,
And fight zealously
Against the bounds
Of reason.
Is my love
So unconditional,
That condition becomes
A mere technicality.

That speck
Which looms ahead,
The bounds of reason
That my dreams transcend,
Is it really the genesis
Of my idealism.
The motor that fuels
My courage,
Is it real or surreal
In its perception.

Your caress.
Can it linger
On my skin,
Sending shivers
Down my spine
Even as a gust of wind
Wafts across the wilderness.

Will the past
Ever be a part
Of my future,
Or is it mere reminiscence
That beckons.

If walls
Could talk,
Would they talk of
Hope,
Or of loss.

If stars
Could sing,
Would they sing
The melody
Of passion,
Or whisper
A tune of farewell.

If the ground
Beneath my feet
Could split,
Would it bury me
Under its façade,
Or reject me
For a shallow
Mirage of beauty.

Can I soar
Into the future,
And fly back
Unfettered.
Can I truly awaken
Today,
And still revel
In that ephemeron
Of joy.

I seek
Not answers,
But queries;
I call out
To the unknown,
Pleading
For innocence;
I beg,
I scream,
I cry…
But I do not
Wish to know
The answers
That hold the key
To my life
And yours,
Uncharted.
Waiting
To be discovered.
That in itself
Is the journey
Of life—
Yours and mine.