Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Alien Music

I do not know the sweet songs of these people
Or the sharp songs
Beating to a harder rhythm
To scour the soul with anger’s oblivion.
I have not grieved their griefs.

I have not moved my feet
To the beat
Staccato and inverted
Then turned right way up
A moment,
Then to plunge to places
I cannot follow
By body or by mind.

The things that soothe them
Do not sustain me,
I find no comfort there,
Having already more than in their wildest dreams,
Their dreams cut like my nightmares,
I have not walked that country of small hopes.

The things that whisper
In my deepest night
Cannot speak their language,
Shamed by my own plenty,
I learn at last to weep.

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