LITANY

You, my friend with the wisdom to fill a billion blazing Alexandrian libraries.

May your loquacious words always be without regret and your dark ink never blur from tears.

You, my friend with judgment so sharp and clear as you blindfolded hold the gilded scales of justice,

May the sword never cut your veins and leave you bleeding and forlorn at the stairs to the temple.

You, my friend who must have lived a thousand lives and secretly stowed away all that knowledge into the voyage of this present endeavor,

May you never realize that the flame of youth has not illuminated your inner eye but instead has gauged your vision.

You my friend with the unyielding belief in what is right and wrong as you walk on the  clear-cut path of stones before you,

May you never err from your certainty to wander in the jungle of treacherous doubts.

You, my friend standing above the rest of us hurling blazing fireballs in scathing contempt,

If you are ever brave enough to don the shoes of those you sneer upon, may your steps be secure and may you be protected from that inconspicuously concealed obstacle in the road as your high head soars above us. 

BEL April, 2012

Image: BEL: Early Morning Glow (taken on Indian Head Trail, White Plains, MD) 

The Rainbow

The rainbow

I cried and threw my words in your face

Spilled the wine and broke the glass

Running out the door into the foggy  night, guns blazing,

Cursing the day I ever laid eyes on you.

Sitting trapped in cold and darkness-

Pretending to be strong when all I needed was your call reaching out to me.

The joke was on me.

The vaults are empty without your sustenance.

My throat, swollen and parched from the angry barbs,

Worked hard to swallow the bitterness of false pride.

Tracking all the way back the highway of childish tantrums.

To where I knew I needed to be.

Wanted to be.

Perspective is a funny thing: Now we laugh as we toast how far we have come.

Despite the tears, the angry words, the darkness, and the doubts.

Or because of them.

We look behind- holding hands, watching the obscure dark clouds recede.

No longer the main event, they simply display

The jeweled wonders of the rainbow. 

(BEL 2012) 

Image:  Rainbow Rain by Penguin Lamp

http://creativefan.com/30-majestic-rainbow-photographs-to-inspire-you-with-hope/

THE WARRIOR

The Warrior

Unshaven, in a dirty shirt,

Crumpled like his soul

He dragged himself out of bed

Tired and exhausted.

Disillusioned, his eyed red from unshed tears

From the torture of sleepless nights,

From wounded pride he no longer knew he held.

The fantasy crashed, the scaffold was torched.

Why had he listened to the lies he whispered into the night?

The phantasies painted by well-meaning pansies?

How did he allow hope to haunt the empty halls?

Treacherous laughter echoes from the marble columns of his empty heart

Making a fool of out him.

Yes, the joke was on him.

Finally, it was time to start dying.

The start shot to life had been a misfire.

Yes, he should care about the loss his family would mourn.

And he should care that he would destroy the lives of his loved ones

The very people who reduced the father to a child.

Surely he should feel guilty.

He listened into his conscience:

 The resounding silence a comfort to his dark plan.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

And then the call came.

Can you be here tomorrow at ten?

No- he would be busy.

He had the plan

He had the intent.

This one time he would finally, eternally be successful.

And when the clock struck ten-

Here he was- crumbled shirt, eyes blood shot, soul ripped open.

Granting another human being the ultimate honor:

He reached for the hand offered.

He took a breath.

And he battled on.

(BEL 3-28-12)

Dedicated to the unknown heroes who allow me to battle alongside with them