I am a fountain of bubbling intensity,
in which I drown when no one drinks from me.
I am a man parched with thirst, floating on the surface of a fresh water sea.
And I realize I am dying. There's no one else beside me.
I look around and find myself alone in the battlefield of integrity.
Some far behind me, some so far ahead in their eluded mystery.
This is the one thing, this personal hell, I cannot be.
Alone, and alone not because I saught some monastary.
This is not something I would want for any.
I am not humble, nor full of grace, ever reaching for my destiny.
And in that quest, I've given of myself so fully,
Yet found none at that same depth that could give back to me.
If there is a Hell, then this is that misery.
And Hell's on earth, not painted in some story.
It is at times like these that I wonder if I cannot flee,
Approach some greater truth beyond my cursed be,
And there in that new depth of eternity,
Find someone, anyone, who can recognize me.
Daniel,
I love this poem. You are so gifted and have so much to offer. This really captures, for me, your pain and isolation and loneliness. My heart reads this, and it hurts for you. I feel I am in the group of "Some far behind [you],' but you never make me feel that way - you're always patient and gentle with me as you try to get me on the same page (or in the same book!) in an attempt to keep up with your nimble and complicated mind. Anyhow, I hope you know how important our friendship is to me. I want you to have what you want and deserve, friend, somehow, someway.
Lynne