I watch you move amid the trees, only finding happiness in moments that fleet. Across the land and the snow, across my mind, across your own. All the way around the globe. You are the chaser of dragons, that weary, twenty-somethin’ soul.
You grasp at each hour as though tangible, follow each minute back into the tall shadows. Your urgency is palpable, your desperation shows, although real-casual. All across the globe you’ve come, only to find yourself in the darkness, and again at square one.
I watch you delve beneath your deepest seas, turn up your ocean bed. You follow each scattered moment fleeting and leave the rest sitting on its head. A hand, a lamp, a map I may have offered, but upon deaf ears my pleas may fall. Although okay, because, I like it when you move that twenty-somethin’ soul.
So, move amid the leaves, follow and float as you do and miss the point entirely. You move so fast and so tirelessly, spinning and spinning – adrift in the trees. Harvest your sadness and shuffle around, give in to the silence and cover the ground.
Search your pockets, search the night and look all into July.
Then you may come to me, ask me why it is that you can’t find,
Happiness in moments that aren’t brief,
visions left in the light,
freedom from your grief, or
serenity from the fight
But at least I like to watch you move,
and love to watch you leave.