Someone Else's Dream

We stood at the brink
Where we saw clearly the ebb of age,
a wearing down, our hearts atrophied from inaction
when we we were prepared to face
all consuming, external evils, but we
were tragically unaware of the shapeless tormentors
patched within us.

I address you like a crowd of strangers,
withdrawn into their own commonplace diaries,
i pull my reluctant audience into my silent chaos
so that they can shed the bonds of their reserve,
their cunning mantra; no surprises, no sudden contact.
we can be one with the chorus-
moving with immense momentum, driving towards the edge,
racing ahead, we pick up our feet in varying intervals
forcing nature herself to revel in our spontaneity.
We could be animals.

When the passion is eroded by all our
many waves of socialization and polite despondence
we'll be like the crest of a magnificent wave,
resting before it inevitably breaks on a numberless
array of ancient rocks that line the shore.
So that, now, our youth appeares to me like a setting sun
and I watch it fade, and melt, and feel
our days and years rain down on me.

Someday, in the future, sparingly, every once-in-awhile,
i will catch a hybrid glimmer of my old spark,
and my life will seem like a book i read,
or a film i saw, like someone Else's dream.