We Are All

And we are all tired,
Wondering when, those
Towers shall
Tumble; when we ascend
Shall we again
Stumble; a question again
Folds up,
We stuff it
In the back pocket.

And we are all
Frightened, of an end that means
Something different
Than what we
Do not haunt
Us, it is we
Who are haunting

And we are all terribly bad
At being what should have been;
Should a human hand
Touch god; shall
A heart break
Bread, incorrectly;
Would a mind
Break free,
Accidentally; indeed,
Is there any other way.

And we are all hoping,
That our life
Will be the life it comes;
Our mouth
Shall be the mouth
To cup
The one;

We are all
Full; emptiness is an
Allusion to
Is the myth one dreams
To see—

And we are all
To find the way
Out of
The dark.

Or so,
We ache to

It is a sensing, like art.

2 thoughts on “We Are All

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