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242 Novels

The Play

It's a Mystery

Glorious Revelation

Tripping out in sunlight
Coasting through the waves
Memorized in an idyllic haze
I would challenge ever mountain
I would take up every gaze
Blown out to sea and I’ll take my
Chances in that way
We’re out there with our laudatory notice
Untenable but sure
Mastering our cruelty with a few
Fancy complicated words
To hell with tomorrow
To hell with the truths we know
We’d just as soon sell ourselves
For the future of a
Better funeral plot
And on the promenade
She passes with that stunning
Summer dress
All the boys are watching as they
Stop to catch their breath
They’re thinking about their girlfriends
Past and present tense
Or their wives and their children
Life's a consequence and hence
It’s not forgiving
It’s not pretense
But somehow we’re so willing
To occupy our mind with the actuation
Of forever finding that kind of perfection
In that stunning summer dress
I’m sorry but I can’t help crying now
Oh I’m sorry but I can’t help laughing now
It's so unimportant and yet it's so profound
As we’re all reaching for a mountaintop
When we should be bent upon our knees
Kissing the hollowed ground that stands
Below our feet, given to us by the
Angels whose wings in whispers beat
“There is no time, there is no money
There’s but the sky, the sea, the land”
Such a glorious revelation if we should
Ever come to understand.