There Are

There Are

4-4/5/-2011

There are a thousand gulls and
you try to tell me how to see
How every wing’s flutter, isn’t
and the batting of your eyes, is

Do you need physical evidence
to prove that desire freedom?
Are not my wings straining,
wishing to observe skies raining?

To make a satisfactory world
ignorant focus was procured
O how the lines twer’ crossed
faithfully a seeker to be blind

If a more pleasant being than
the god or beauty incarnate
Were to touch these spent thoughts
such! that I were less noble

A more precious chemical I
debased to become human
Prod me to paralysis
uproot my spinal and curl into spiral

These are ingredients for confused
being ripe with wanderlust,
My legs seek the unworn path
and ruts become frustration

Patience
whisper’d patients
“Lest you wish to fall from grasp”
whilst pointing on blue of map

I am the ocean
and I met you at its rivulets
Deepest trenches churning
softest insides burning

Obscure reference! and now
a whole lot of faux genius
Generous for flake
all too willing to delve in cake

These natural tectonic plates
shifted our continents apart
I am a changing force
boundaries come frustrating

All this and more
come writhing at my door
Unspeakable left uncontested
open wounds not tended

The sores wear skin dry
(baggy shoulders heavied)
Dreams worn dull
(premature sorrow readied)

James P. McCabe