MOORINGS

MOORINGS

It seems these days I spend my time skating on thin ice.
The shore has disappeared from sight.
And I am miles from paradise, giving up without a fight.

The fireworks in your eyes have faded,
Straight into the depths I've waded.
Footsteps creak on ancient floorings,
I'm like a ship that's lost its moorings,
Tossing and turning with the chilling winds.
Drowning in a pool of sins for which I soon will burn.

It's as if I never even learned,
The wisdom of just holding on, the power of forgetting.
The joy that comes from letting go,
The peace of heartache lifting,
The sand as it goes shifting.

My world has crashed and splintered.
It seems I'm in the hinterlands,
With icebergs floating all around.
Drowning in the mighty waves,
That wash up on the frozen sound.

It seems I'm skating on thin ice,
The world has lost its rhyme and reason.
The rain falls hard these winter nights,
A swollen, painful lonely season.

My footsteps creak on ancient floorings,
And I at last have lost my moorings.
Remembering my ancient bliss,
My heart it hungers for your kiss.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED