Between the Lines
for my son and brother poet: for Steven Curtis Lance, Jr.
Waxing waning moon ebbing flowing tide
The rising and the falling of the breast
The variable beating of the heart
The stirring of the soul within its cage
The flutter of the feathers of its wings
The silence falls as we await the start
Of the sound which a soul makes when it sings
When poetry pours like blood from the page
As sacrificial uttermost and best
Of one whose soul has been brought to the test
And come transfigured through the other side
Battle-scarred more beautiful than before
Embracing with souls as arms open wide
The now of this life to live it the more
At this point neither ahead nor behind
Between when and then in the now again
Between the lines where the secrets are lain
The interstitial spaces of the mind
Where others find what we cannot explain
And even know it better than we could
Are the places we are best understood
Between the lines where the secrets remain
Ready to be revealed to anyone's
Mind who can conceive one as many ones:
The meaning of what we cannot explain
In all its multiplicity we find
Between the lines where the secrets are lain
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMIX
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Edwin