Dying
Waking
Former life fleeting
Convinced I’m dreaming
When these memories feel so real to me
Aching for gestation
To be born by new creation
Headlights flicker
Electricity whispers
And a seed is born with the knowledge of a tree
Fleeting, flashing, dreaming me
But I am
I am
Calm waters
The child of my father
We are the same
I am uniquely me
Anger for a stranger
It’s all fantastic
The product of plastic
Familiar thing I’ve never touched
I know how you feel
Again the strong current
Flows a deterrent
To cling too tightly to the roots of this shore
Understanding there waits something more
The river’s bend calls to me
Pulling me so lovingly
Drowning
Flying
Dying
Waking
The corner of the dreamer’s eye
No need to scream. No need to cry
Do not cling to this paper tree
There is not fact in all you see
Life is not contrary to death
Love does not cease without breath
Dandelions in the breaze
Leaves falling from the trees
For which breeze and which trees are not me?
My brother, my sister, my family
Love – anything but a fleeting memory
Love – inside and all of me
A skipping stone in search of home
A frantic suspended fit
Lights and shapes, and colorful noise
And we try to make sense of it.
Breathing
Blowing
Thinking
Knowing
Drowning
Flying
Waking
Dying
It’s electricity that gives us shape
Burn marks on our hands
When we hold on so tightly
Glass masses in the sands
We fight and claw and scrape for life
The self-imposed burden we carry
Opposition of the same form
When dust and flesh seem contrary
Author Phil Force 