Below The Tamaracks He Is Crying

As i touch the fountain’s blood,
The numbness of my heart flows through my fingers,
Feeling nothing but comfort in all of the pain,
I try to rationalize my emotions but am overcome by contentment,
I see the water,
I feel the hurt,
And as my hand becomes one with what gives life,
I know what I am,
What I am to become,
And what my purpose is,
And yet - I am as blank and clear-minded as a heaven-sent child,
Tears may flow from my eyes,
But come from my soul,
Words may come from this pen,
But are from my heart,
To understand person is to know yourself,
And pain is the only teacher

XXX

Clarity falls to my side,
As if it were dead,
Killed by emotion and drown in sorrow,
Life seems to have failed me,
For nothing is as it should be,
And everythig soon turns into nothing,
What sets me apart?
A clear conscience is only for the innocent,
And fools are exempt,so by default

XXX

I look around me as the life around me glistens in the new baptism,
Smelling of all that I love and call home,
I sit here,
On this man-made bench, like a tombstone on a grave,
Watching,
Learning,
And standing for something,
Many may not see me,
But those who do, see my message,
And once known shall never be forgotten