Drew HurleySweet dreams and well wishes
may satisfy the logical mind,
but not the human soul.
The bird-song pasions
of the human breast
are but constrained within that phalanx
of meaning called words.
We strain the existant vocabulary
in the vain hope of penning
the essence of a feeling
within a corral of wooden phrases.
And know that the caged bird cannot sing.
Is life so melancholy, and for naught?
The purpled midnight emotions
of the human soul still course the channel of man;
and we still breathe and communicate
our fears and doubts, as best we can,
with a shrug, a sigh,
an eagled wave of the hand or a lustful leer.
Yet our song is bitter-sweet,
for, like the caged bird, we cannot fly.
Make life not dreary, sad or drab.
All men share one velveted secret longing:
to be remembered -- and with love.
Love alone is not enough;
the remembering gives life its haunting refrain.
Nor will remembering itself suffice,
except as a hollow oracle
to some long forgotten diety.
Think then of love remembered,
and mark it well!
For as a bird, we shall know the freedom of love
and the song we sing is of remembering.
Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:47:54 EDT