nightfears

How long
have you strode
in the streets
of the night

like a man
in a dream
who is dazed
by his fright?

Did you pray,
when you lost,
and your eyes
turned from life

to the rope
at your feet
and the edge
of the knife

that will wait
for your fall?
Will you wake,
do you sleep,

is this day,
is it real?
Is the hope
worth the leap

and your life
worth the pain?
Is there more?
Do you lack?

Are you blind
from your fear
or more blind
from the black

of a world
that’s so sure,
does not ask,
will not think,

but just want?
Do you grope
in the dark,
would you blink

in the sun,
or is noon
what you’ve got,
and the best

of the deal
is the play
and the feel,
and the rest

is a ghost?
Do you know,
have you found,
do you stride

in the streets,
is there sense
in this world,
do you hide

from your mind?
What is truth?
Is it here?
Have you found

what you seek?
Will your strength
last the fight
that you’re bound

to meet soon,
if you live?
If you die?
Would you sell

all your wealth
just to speak
to the man
who could tell

where to find
in the blare
peace of mind? …

[Breathe.]

Will you pray,
can you weep?

Does the truth
come too late?
Is there way
through your sleep—

Will you live,
and leave death,
will you breathe,
and know breath?

If by truth
you can break
all these lies
so you wake
from your night,
you will find
in the light
peace of mind. . . .

and live.

1999