To the Glory of God, to Gwyneth with Love.
The only reason we look down is that we’re in the dark.
In the light we look to the horizon.
When we watch our step we see the separation between the boards on the dock.
When the sky is blue we wonder how far we can see,
the rotation of the planet can place us in the shade.
The shadows are great and vast,
the universe is full of them
when the clouds ride no faces can be seen.
The black and white features are grainy.
The only reason we’re in the dark is that faces seem ghostly in the dark;
like looking at something you can’t believe you look down and away.
Trust is in how you got there.
The sand can disguise anything.
I could not look at my brother’s face,
I could not see my brother’s face.
There’s nothing to see in the dark,
everything is beyond view.
A place to hide,
To keep things close.
A strange place to be with my brother
where trust is out of place;
where words seem to make stupid jokes.
A place where my brother was strange.
Water beneath the boards
Or thoughtlessness.
The whole world full an end to thought.
Looking into the face like something dead,
Like a child’s play thing,
As if the night could be held in my hands.
Then hands become the day
to be revealed as part of something lives to reach
to find reason in the dark.
The horizon in the dark is like a dead face.
Looking is a deception
when there’s enough deception there is only the dock and the stairs
Up from the beach from beside the water.
To admit the treasure is in distant view,
almost like freedom,
where there’s nowhere to go.
Where faces tell of more.
A hope for a ghost,
so that we can speak of hidden things.
Offer the night a lie
that it can’t handle,
so our footprints will never be known.
And the dock is like a boat,
With visions of seeing us there.
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