Sparrows Nest

Comfort, my comfort Familiarity is set in sanity Like a gem is within its socket Dawn draws another curtain And within the shell Of the perfect black oyster I am seen within My retreat of darkness Upon first greeting I already Remark Oh, woe, lo and behold Perspective creates continuity And while being a reprieve it lies Like idle hands spent in a workshop Rousing the early bird for a life In order to trade life for continuity Rolling away like tears I perish within the acceptance The flavour undeniable It tastes like pure anguish I taste at my own tongue I smell burning fuel I see innocence The blaze is mighty For the pain is real Rippling with cosmic energy At last unveiled Vented at the ends Of my wing tips Wide open for the final escape Like a river that gets projected I start to make my flight That leads to where it always lips Kicking my feet like black swans do Towards the edge of the fiery horizon To be caught is exhilaration Being in a close call To stand at any given point Placing the river directly Before you Is what causes glimmering Both in true sight up in heaven The brightening sky halo And that what is there only due to Being the mere image of what is real Breathing upon the face of the waters Light bringer in mid flight I see you glister You reflect off silver Man's deepest relative center Lonely ways leading outward Turn back once seen Beyond what looms No more in the distance Seen to be forgotten My hands reach out still To the very ends of thought My shivering finger tips can tell Ever slipping away when times are good Nothing to hold on to When there is nothing left to forgive Forgetting even though I reflect me here Time grows narrow as I remain near I start wishing of nesting like a sparrow One season there and gone the next I sink like a stone Since it seems like there are many cases Where it turns out that the things which I thought To have been the very things that had made me In fact to have been the very same things That have been snatching appreciation Away from me like the old tree Its branch knocking outside my window Childhood breaking in

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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