i am a stranger now
even to mine own self
the anchor chains
have rusted in the salt of my sea

neither brother nor sister
nor friend can i muster
whether the hand proffered or no
for it is an alien world
all that is within it and me
incomprehensible

the sun shines not for me
the bell tolls not for me
i am a side track on an abandoned line
where old boxcars are left to rust
and the heat of summer simmers
in myriad mirages
so that what once was important
is now an illusion

adrift,
i am adrift without mooring
without course
without the glory of even a storm
i wander within myself
and no longer even bother
to peer across the fence of the horizon
nor to seek what I once craved to know

all assails so that i am bewildered
and cannot find a path nor an end
no high ground from flood
from which I might find vantage
and know the why of it or even you

sunrise brings fear and despair
sunset is a dying each day
oh whither come such things, such symbols and cymbals
and gods and Gods
what do we chase that is not made of dust
that is not a flash in the pan or is
that might make one wallow in happiness and understanding
and feed upon the earth
that nurtures the tree of love
from which all fruit forbidden
has fallen and rots upon the ground?