Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


i am always a part of the whole picture....


i should have stopped a long time ago.
move my way, like another planet to another orbit
unto another galaxy, for there are so many
options, anyway.
i should have closed the door and the windows,
light my own room, and play the flute and
listen to the songs of my own soul,
contented with the caresses of my own hands
the dances of my feet and the gentleness of
my breathing,
i am a certain rhythm away from all of you,
i have a hammock where my head rests
throughout the night, i have my own soft bed
of white fleece, the rain outside and the storms
can do me no harm,
i could have just listened and do nothing,
i didn't.

tell me now, have you heard the coldest
sound of my regrets? have you heard the flapping
of bird wings away from your heart?
have you seen the river moving away from
the banks where you are
constantly castigated by the
howling sounds of your foxes?
my nights are your nights now.
come, do not listen to me, come,
i shall listen to all of you.
we're all in this now.
to the journey of our deepest selves,
my way of understanding the changes of
our lives, the coming of the dawning of
light, shadows fading, rains stopping,
seeds beginning their sprouts
in the coming of our springtime.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 12, 2011
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