Comfortable watching raptors fly.
Ok with their swoop for food.
At home with this warrior behind my eyes,
Wanting battle, wanting the crude. Pleasantly to hear violin, cello and flute.
Wanting to hold a woman's soft delicate hand.
Capable of being a good father, not brute.
Willing to walk bare foot in the sand. Knowing that war is to be dread,
That catching glimpses of light clear my head.
Stretching out on a pillowed bed,
While cheering on the thankful dead. I arch my back as you scream and shout.
I take 'my' lead from the awful doubt,
That courses, maneuvers, banks and flows,
Through this always ugly 'what you know'. Inside and out I want to be,
An anonymous celebrity.
I'll take this lack of craft and glee
And dash it to the rocks with me. Long in tooth and quick with hand.
Starring reality double sand,
Night slow and day long,
Stand up straight, get along. Ask for help when you need it sure,
Strap on cause and mythic lore.
Feign to die a death not yours,
Sleep till morning.
Find a cure.