I see my shadow.
But it is not heading
Where I am.
I see my life.
But it was not
Living
Like I am.
I see these walls.
But I cannot
Get beyond them.
I contemplate these words.
But find no other ways
Of expression.
I only find a path
To what can be,
Not what is.
I find voices bigger than my own
Shouting words of wisdom,
But implying cries
Of warning.
I stand at the corner of
Lost
And
Found.
But no one called me
To say anything
Was found.
I live life
With a wandering compass,
But tell me where to
Find true north.
It sure does not point
Anywhere clear,
And I wonder,
And wander,
Till this fog clears.
It becomes ever clear
That this water we drink
Might indeed
Be
Everclear.
Our minds are blurred,
And our voices,
All but softened
With the simplest nectar.
And I wonder,
Oh wonder,
If life is truly a one directional
Vector.
My direction points no place
Because I will never know my place
In your place of home:
Your heart.
The heart of the matter
Is that every warm heart
Matters.
So tell me again,
Where does our shadow point
When the compass is broken
And our heart leads us astray?
I guess we must find out,
Some
Lucky
Day.