Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Poem: Light in the Tunnel

Light in the Tunnel

Who am I, what am I, what shall I be
The light in the tunnel is laughing at me
Flush with the promise of conclusive remark
And yet there’s the fear of the mostly-still dark
Perhaps it’s the riddle as only remnant remains
Temptation lays waste to the street peddler games
The trick is the eye can’t keep up with the hand
You never can win; it’s been long ago planned
Such is a life spent where debts go unpaid
The time passes quickly as foundations are laid
So sit by the river as it forever swims on
The beauty floats past like a sweet, tender song
Can’t catch the rhythm, though it beats in my heart
Its touch so elusive I would quit if I’d start
Is it luck or delusion to be stuck in the mud
You can’t run away so you drown in the flood
Minutes and hours and days slip on by
The cold realization of the tears I would cry
Sisters and brothers, hallelujah be praised
‘Neath the core of the poet is a fear he obeys
The light in the tunnel comes up steady and true
Train’s whistle blows, so there’s little to do

Copyright SGW 2008


SandyCarlson said...

Just thinking of the fear beneath the core of the poet. We do obey, don't we? I know this tunnel. It is as you describe.

SandyCarlson said...

Thanks for the thoughtful comment on "calm kids."

Now to forget my own advice and get out there to enjoy the first snow of the season!

Michelle Hix said...

You know how when you go to the museum and the eyes of the paintings follow you? That's what this poem is like. I've read it many times. Each line follows me or maybe I follow each line to a place that resonates with me.