I

A day comes, passes, and is remembered
a day to teach and remind,
to appreciate the richness and beauty,
of those we hold dear.

Minute to minute, I live this day
hour to hour, time passes
I feel the melancholy sweetness
as each second becomes a permanent part
of the fabric; my wonderful life.

I have seen a sleeping deity awake
and my spirit is welcomed
to a shared world of humanity.
I recognize love and with joy,
reveal my soul...


II

I am a spirit who smiles
at deepest brown, open eyes
childish bliss and playful laughs

I am a spirit who cries
lamenting through long nights spent away
as tears cloud my memory;
and in my loneliness knows
loathing, hatred, and mortality.

I am a spirit who loves,
as no other has loved,
the deity which softly pulses
with encroaching enlightenment;
who loves his mate and the scar on her chin.

I am a spirit at once well and sick,
darkness and light, happiness and misery.
I offer thanks for the ability to see
for through darkness comes a blinding light
and lessons of utmost joy,
a backdrop of deepest blue
through which a happy thought shines.

I am a spirit who is reminded of love
when a hand touches my hair
of caring and helplessness
in a naked embrace.
A word, an affirmation of humanity,
a look is my will to be.

I am a spirit who has suffered and will suffer still
who has loved and will love more
who survives with a helpful idea
and an acceptance of good and bad

I am a spirit who cherishes understanding
acknowledging unique beauty
and opens its being
to another's life and love.

I am a spirit of heaven and hell
incomplete without a caring mind
and youthful excitement.
I am a spirit of this world and beyond.

I am a spirit whose tears have flown
more abundant than a migrating flock
a flight of humours
a bleeding consciousness
a ripple in a pool of bliss
a reflection of deepest love

I am a spirit who has climbed the mountain
and looked down on the world
Knowing such love that death was welcome.

I am a spirit who has wrenched itself free
from the grime of Lucifer
to return to the garden
and eat freely of its fruit.


III

You are my eternal companion
light in dark and black in white
my life and death, sanity and sickness
a strong totem and a crack in a stain glass window

I look to the sea and see your smile
I see your face in a flame reaching higher and higher
I see your love in the side of a mountain
I feel your fear when reality is gone

Forever we will fly
together free we soar
over cities, through other worlds
shadows of our common souls.



Who is the wanton idealist 
who seeks cupid's bow
but recoils from the pain
as the soul is pierced
and reality is shook?

An arrow through the heart
is joy in metaphor
but the rend is painful
and the wound oozes life
with time the trouble passes
and the fruits of humanity
become all the more sweet.



A lover's embrace the night before separation.
At the end of a long journey,
one wonders will things ever be the same...

We cry for another hour,
wish for another day
for time apart breeds growth away
and means the end of a chapter of life.

Say good-bye and mean it
distance makes the heart more distant.


There is no constant moon tonight
and I sit in an absence of mind,
desirous of lunar satisfaction;
a state of solitude and happiness.
I am lost in the rhythm and rhyme of the wind in the trees.

smell life in the air
and open up to the breeze,
a cool breeze at that,
scented with a hint of melancholy
as I come back to a place I knew so well.

A year ago, this park meant
a quiet afternoon on a blanket
with a book and friends,
with my lover and wife to be,
a summer spent happy,
a summer of love and peace.

But now I sit in sorrow
many years later, my love far away.
I sit with a memory of that sweet person
pressed against the lens of my inner eye
her hands outstretched
and brow wrinkled
as if she could walk up to me now and hold me.

But I know the mirage isn't true,
I know she would shun me
were she here now to share this moonless night.
I know my words would be
                             a burden and annoyance.
I know I would crumble
                             and the tears would roll
oh, we have both changed.

But the park and its tower have not
so I'll walk to the spot
where I spent many sunny days
in peace, and just remember my girl.



Maybe I'll cry by myself
and pretend I can feel her warmth
of soul and body.
Perhaps I will see her eyes
brown and bright
as they looked back at me
on our wedding day.

Maybe I'll see her smile too
and feel the flesh of her hands
as we promised to always be there
for each other.

She is there no longer
and she shuns me
                               she pushes me away
                   and pulls my heart
        and my mind
away from my soul

Oh I am sick with discontent and surprise
that the One can never return
and the chaste purity
of an innocent time
died with words
and stabbed my back
unknowing malice
when I let my spirit open
and looked to the one
who promised a shoulder
on which I could weep
when life became hard
and my hand went for my throat.

Weep not for me, weep for all who have known this awful remorse
deep in their gut.


In my loneliness, I sometimes find a sweet thought.
A minute of acceptance
a second of freedom 
from a feeling of sadness.

I can put myself on the side of a mountain
or alone in a sunny field;
sweating dry in the desert
or feeling the knot in my back
after leaning on a tree in the forest
for hours on end.

I can smile at a child
and laugh at his evasiveness
as his mother tries to gain control

I can pity a homeless man;
smile at the innocent sex appeal of a teenaged girl;
shake my head at the bags and wrinkles of a troubled woman's eyes.


I can acknowledge energy
and drink it in without hesitation;
appreciate food;
love music;
cry at art;
breathe the air;
shiver in the cold;
I can feel again!


I've had my hour for today
and for this I give thanks
for this time
to feel a little bit human,
a little bit free.

[Cover | Surroundings | Creativity | Darkness | Life | Nature | Love | Peace | Epilogue]

Download the whole HTML book as a .zip file
or view the book as a text file.

"A Look is my Will to Be" ©1997, 1999 Paul Mascott/ Masco Music, all rights reserved

This book may be distrubuted freely as long as no money is exchanged for its content.
Paul Mascott and Masco Music retain all rights to this work.