The Finder Of The Exit
AROUND us are WALLS,
ALWAYS walls,
all walls, and up our longings
are our longings
like a sky up there
all sky, pure blue sky
we are never birds
by design
we are the geckos on walls
we always sound
echoes, lots of echoes that
return to us
from these walls around us
we are an island surrounded by water
down there
down here
there must be an exit
we must dive and be not afraid to drown
because we are never birds by design
there must be a cave where these waters
get inside us
we dive, dive deeper into our oceans of doubt
there is an exit
i know, now, where. Follow me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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