You can find me here, at the crossroads of it all
Where the weary, exhausted sun lies its fatigue behind the moon’s shadow
With swarms of bodies draped in corporate ties, in winter’s fall
Commuting, trekking, displacing themselves away and back into tomorrow’s afterglow
You can’t find me there, not at the centre
The birds and bees, in tow, move, live not long to see what happens here, all foreshadowed
Slyly sneaking, quiet as a corpse, to find what’s sweet in the middle
Hovering, diverging, fluttering broken wings, arrested by the silence and shortly then, disemboweled
You can always find me over there, far within the middle
Truth lies within the foundations of these floors where tigers tiptoe
Everything shakes yet nothing moves nor speaks, barrels of silenced ululations
Waning, dimming, fading away, like a midsummer’s day slowly taking its bow, the daily diminuendo
The spirit of the soul comes to rest here, where his inner peace lies
You can(‘t) always find me anywhere but here.
