Play The Pipes for Me
The eye in the sky frightened me. I could find no mountain high enough to hide behind, no animosity adverse enough to protect me, no valley deep enough to swallow me. I laid my nakedness upon the melted rock, exposed.
Ubiquitous eyes,
Wiggling dark digits of fright,
Uncovering me
Through murky waters, he appeared. A ray of light. An authentic visage of emboldened hope. He was sanity personified. Just accept, he said. Adhere to me. He promised me a new coat of silver and gold.
Modern oracles,
Given any other name,
Brings hope to the blind
I agreed. I followed him through the scentless lilies, not noticing the hybrids of unpredictability. Closing my eyes. Shutting out reality. The sun smiled on me, an attractive affirmation of promised intentions, and it was good.
Shifting illusions
Burning in the desert sands
Distorts perceptions
But the eye in the sky came back, a disambiguation of words which tumbled to the ground. I wondered. Who will play the pipes for me now? Who will cover me now? Who will walk beside me when I stumble in the darkness? I felt betrayed. For but one fleeting moment, one astonishing fleeting moment, it was good.
He who stands upon
A frail pedestal of straw,
May slip asunder.
© 2008 Morning Song
(All rights reserved)
| |
