Enthusiasm’s rope

Enthusiasm’s rope

My old hands are sweating 

Stalling in the climb I’m 

Assessing my fretting 

Adrenaline shedding

Purpose into question

Must chinny up inches

Satisfy ascension 

Rain falling without sound

Rain falling without sound

Blurred reflections in black

As if love was napping

And colors will come back

Time passing glance to glance

Footsteps soft as pale light

Attention to detail

Now lost in some mere trite

Cape Horn’s narcissism

Cape Horn’s narcissism 

Was disguised as morale

I’ve become gray rock in

The Panama Canal

Another Magellan

May set sail and head south

No pledge of allegiance 

Will billow from my mouth

New mornings are so old

New mornings are so old

We are fresh out the gate

Permission to forget

Excitement to create

And again and again

The gallant march and dirge

Fragmentation and forge

Resignation and urge

It was your breath in mine

It was your breath in mine

Concentric circles reigned

Then out of your shadow

My center tree regrained 

And the mark in the bark 

Time and growth helped to heal

Understanding it was 

My empathy and feel

Emerging emotions

Emerging emotions

Like Jackson Pollock paints

Or Mark Rothko layers

Of both boldness and faints

Still feeling the rush of

Abstract and undefined

Waiting for clarity

A Vermeer or refined

In the great compression

In the great compression 

A dried flower fighting

The beauty and scent of

The new and inviting 

Like thin tissue paper

Imagine and feel days

When it was offering

Its nectar and amaze