snatching
struggling
for cover
from the pain
the dreams that so quickly
turn into illusions
the love
that vanishes into thin air
we grab for succor
at the hands of nature
ineluctable nature
stands out
like a twin edged sword
nature we submit to
nature we lean to
for comfort
for cover
we struggle so hard
for efficiency
for directness
for facts
that seem so dependable
for figures
that seem so reassuring
for comfort
that closes us out
from the real trouble inside us
the existential puzzle
that we try so hard to avoid
are afraid to think of
for no answers
are ever found
we live
lives in a whilwind
now here
now there
now here again...
always moving
but not moving at all
surfaces worn out by living
surfaces roughed out by searching
surfaces tired of weary feet scratching
the real truth
the "deeps"
unexlored
lonely
forlorn
desolate
standing forever
right at the threshold
of the door
never let in
june 26, 2001.
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