i caught
the midnight sky
winking at me
as i walked
out the front door;
its clouded lid
falling upon
that bright
but waning eye
for the briefest
of moments

it is hard
to know
if this was
a gesture
   of endorsement
a translunary "attaboy"
   of encouragement
to keep walking
this path
less travelled
or an accusatory
reassurance
despite
   the ambivalence
that my secrets
would be kept
by this
ever-watchful
stellar companion

the lake bed
was uneven
a mosaic
of large rocks
loose
and dancing
under foot
with each
shuffled step
an interchange
of unreliable shallows
and inconsistent depths
he wasn't
particularly keen
only willing
to venture in
up to his chest
reluctant
to advance
if he couldn't
plant paws
firmly
on soil
   or stone
not even
the lure of food
was enough
to tempt him;
though he wanted
his treat
a reward
   for his bravery
the murky water
   the unknown
   the unfamiliar
   the unexpected
was just
too much

pictures from
this new telescope
unveiled
glimpses of
an early universe
in spirals
clusters
and clouds
      of colour
amidst
an ever-changing
luminescent haze
stretched across
the bespeckled
vastness of black;
a cosmic dance
of light
through time
and space
both answering
and posing
countless potentials

even so
it is difficult
not to compare
these images
with what
can be seen
by looking through
a child's kaleidoscope

It all starts with an idea, that you can
Feelings come between now and then
Thoughts come running through your head
All the time is ripened for what could be said
Then it takes what was yours
It just breaks all your core
And you'll never know why
You gave in just for more
All the sights and the sores
Painful cries as they court
And you'll never know why
You take in, lust yet torn

Sometimes I fear the feeling of contentment
Of completion and accomplishment
Because afterwards I'll never know
If the passion dies, or if I'll still grow
Then it stops what you start
It just drops from the heart
And you'll never take back
What you gave just for art
All the lies and the lores
Faithful eyes now they tore
And you'll never know why
As you come back for more

And it starts as it the ends
The idea that you can't
As you say one goodnight
The last of all goodbyes
To the brush, to your pen
To all books that you've read
To the lovers that come
To the letters you've read
As you'll never come back
To create, you just can't
One last time, one last sigh
Close your eyes, one last breath
All the doors closing in
Right where we all begin

Our dreams come pure with uncertainty
When all doors are closed as answers can be
When everyone has turned their back on you
While the chance is null and you have no clue
That dream you have is yours alone
It only comes once, yet with you it's grown
It all starts with an idea, that you can
You were passionate once, embrace dreams once again

without context
it will
forever
be impossible
   to tell if
your eyes
are red
as a result
of
being upset
laughing
   until you cry
an eyelash
   in your eye
suffering
   from hay fever
or that you
clumsily
poked yourself
in the eye
again
while putting on
your glasses

there may
   or may not
exist
certain colours
that the human eye
is unable
to see
an insipid
   blueish-yellow
an unpalatable
   greenish-red
each said
to be impossible
for our eyes
to process;
if seen
it could appear
in all manner
of forms
but would remain
indescribable

they say that
butterflies can see
the ultraviolet spectrum
and that
the honey bee
sees in infrared;
and so
it would not
be too absurd
for a person
to dismiss
the "impossible"
to believe
in the possibility
of the as-yet
unseen

although
scientifically
the only way
to perceive
these "forbidden" hues
is through trickery
and constraint
by forcing the brain
into seeing both
antagonistic colours
simultaneously
and
without reprieve
until the border
between
the opposing shades
finally dissolves

there may be
a truth
but it is hidden
somewhere between
the plausible
   yet impalpable
and the proven
   yet proselytised

lying
on my back
surrounded by
the beauteous
and magnificent
i had intended
on being
absorbed
   immersed
      softened;
instead
that which i carry
proved
too distracting
to ignore

i did not see
the grace
   of the clouds
watching only
in hope that
it might
drift away
with them;
dismayed
to see only
cirrus and cirrocumulus
and neither
looked strong enough
to bear
the weight

i could not feel
the warmth
   of the sand
instead
focused on burying
attempting to crush
and blend it
to a fine grain
but
it would not
     breakdown;
its bulk
remained
providing
neither comfort
not support

i was not worthy
of the calming embrace
   of the sea
saw no point
in making
an offering
to the waves
only for it to be
rejected
   and returned
by the tide;
the swell spitting
at my feet
in dismissal

noticing the sun
hiding its face
i packed up
   my belongings
making sure
not to leave
anything behind;
all that i had carried
would return
with me

now
and then
i like
to turn off
the lights
let the moon
and instinct
guide me
swallowed
by the dark
there is no path
   to choose
only chance;
blind luck
balancing upon
   the finest of lines

eyes will adapt
to the pitiful offering
of the clouded crescent
but
there is neither
enough silvery light
nor confidence
to be sure
of safety
for long

in the enveloping darkness
anxiety rises
fear overpowers
and faith
in the self
becomes questionable;
headlights
are flicked on again
in panicked haste

as the road
and its obstacles
become clear once more
i am left
wondering
if i truly believed
i could navigate
without the help
being offered
or
if i simply
wanted to
force myself
into failure

Sorry, I don't know,

it's so foggy over here --


Could that be the cause?