By: Joshua Blau
They come unexpected
Roving halls of slumber
Or plots coups
Unseen at night
Of thought unheeded.
They arrive and
Suddenly everything is
Joyous and there is
Nothing before but
They fester, furrow, nest in mind,
And don’t let go until dismissed,
Their grasp on want too strong to loose.
Their hold on me too deep to stand.
Their viscous tendrils bedded now
In feather-beds of wondered awe
And sleep the many days away
But waiting, waning, weathering.
They start to fade now slowly.
So long has passed, more time
Than ought for happenings,
Developments, or actions taken.
Withdrawing, out of energy
They crawl back to their places
Unknown to victims or themselves.
They fleet in memory, whispers strained.
I can’t hear the notes anymore.
Woe that the music has stopped!
The befuddled souls of witless
Players without orders to fulfill!
Can I bring them back now
They are gone, now
They cannot wish upon me bliss
To leap towards heaven or demise?
For they have left me naught,
But maybe in the future