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Like a Dangling Rock
Folder:
The Rushing Stream of Desires
What is this passion
that so fills my soul?
This insisting urge to seek the
hidden pathways of my mind?
Like a dangling rock that
threatens to fall,
I am on edge waiting
for a message,
or a path to follow.
What is this fear that so
grips me when I look
out at the world?
This tangled vision that guides me
through the shallow patterns of life?
People pas me by and smile
wishing me a "good day" and
an insincere smile.
I smile back, equally insincere
and we drip with false faces
so easily worn.
What is this doubt
that so caresses my heart?
I fear to touch the truth.
I fear to be the truth.
An ant is but one part of the puzzle.
