Find

One day I will find, my love,
the walls that throw my voice
back at me in angry echoes,
and I'll understand.

One day I will find, my love,
those twisted bones that
splinter as they bend
in reaching for sustain
and I'll feel nothing.

One day I will find, my love,
the shards of words you
coughed from behind frosted glass,
wrongly convinced of your naked solitude
and I will know you.

One day I will find, my love,
a voice that bleeds
and forces take from the hands
of the thick-necked sighing affluents
and I'll never want again.

One day I will find, my love,
the foresight that grasps
the profound linguistics of sorrow
before it incapacitates all movement
and I'll smile as I write.

One day I will find, my love,
the ability to access
every shadowed corner,
damp and destitute in
bourgeois denial of
the existence of thirst.
I'll  breathe slowly,
the warm smell of death
and lying elixirs
and I'll know truth.

One day I will find, my love,
the courage to clear my throat
from small talk and conditioning,
to whisper when all else
shout white noise from
lofty tenements, mirroring
enemy states with whom
the official policy is only an aggressive glair,
and somehow I'll be heard.

One day I will find, my love,
the ability to dodge my own words
and catch the bullets of
someone more significant
and die with that perspective
burying itself far deeper than
skin and sinew
and all decomposing cells.

One day I will find, my love,
my way back to the good memories
that always induce weeping,
and I'll sigh a deep, happy sigh.

One day I will find, my love,
the sense to break
the gaze with my own contentment
and avoid it's hypnotic stair,
falling through the mass graves
of expendable work-force
and the layers of generation's potential,
all with clipped wings
and there I'll begin.

One day I will find, my love,
the illusive realisation that
my gravitational pull is
minimal and creates no orbit,
and the snakes that circle me
are after my blood. I'll let go of the
pointless ambition of significance.

One day I will find, my love,
the memory enough to hold
the message from repeated lessons
that need not repeat
and I'll grow and inch in height.

One day I will find, my love,
the secret of communication
masked by waves and wires
buried in ink and soil
and liquid crystal display
and its mud-stained
sun-bleached container
may well become my home
and I'll belong.

One day I will find, my love,
the beginning of the maze
where all defiled flesh amass
at the apex of the underworld
groaning for redemption
fully knowing the bitterness of
Adam's fruit and Cain's jealousy
and I'll not fear for myself.

One day I will find, my love,
every golden calf in this
dilapidated mansion
weathered by its own decorations,
soak the place with petrol
and wait for the baking sun
to burn away the chaff
of trinkets shackles
and I'll be able to move.

One day I will find, my love,
the secret password
to the mind of every tortured soul
and I'll never be lost for words.

One day I will find, my love,
the hopeless wanderers potential
buried beneath every conscious
effort to forget by following
the footprints that could
stained a dirt road,
and I'll care not for footprints.

One day I will find, my love,
that the answer to all desired emancipation
is to transform perspective from
my empty hands to theirs
and I'll escape.

Yes, it's very long. Written Jun 2011;
a poem about ambition amidst either opposition or just plain apathy.
And about discipleship.

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