Passage

My soul's passage
on a winding, twisting path
is a way with many bends
harboring surprises

I both fear and welcome them
these intrusions in my rhythm
that open both my heart
and my ears to the possible new song

A melody that is born
from a melancholy shadow
haunting and taunting this sun-drenched traveller

A memory that is borne
across misunderstood generations
as a salt sea journey carries stowaways

A mercy that gives form
to an untested hope
emerging from a chrysalis of discouragement

Breathe the air
draw in deep
hold it while your lungs burn
and yearn to set it free

Release your hold
Give up your grip
Let your ship sail
and ride the breeze

leaving this passage in its wake

©2005 Steve Eulberg

Finding My Pen

So many unwritten lines
words
letters
over such an expanse
of time.

The thoughts have flooded,
roiling and pounding like
boiling waves

The images bright and vivid,
pale and diffused
clearly confusion

The transition to a keyboard
for journalling my thoughts, poetry and dreams
never successfully negotiated.

The ink flowing from the scratching pen point
even if aided by the rolling ball tip
is a lubricant to my awareness

Thoughts tumble as
socks and towels, t-shirts and jeans
in the heated air of the crucible
until ideas form,
and/or
are tossed away with the clinging lint.

And/or are collected,
sweet-smelling in the basket
for careful, crease-less folding,
sorting, stacking
re-stocking the closet shelves

To be retrieved and worn again
and tossed into the hamper

©2005 Steve Eulberg