Day 381: Where I Cannot Look

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i cannot look in lovers’ eyes
nor in the pages of the distant sages
who beckon me back
to archaic ages
with wisdoms
like windmills
that spin
and hypnotize
on the horizon,
but whose breeze i do not feel.

whose milled power
churns
for some other soul
to harness and use,
not i.

i cannot look in the young ones
for i am not young,
again
and again
i find.

i cannot look in the aged
who have wearied of our lot
and who wait now,
to finally find
what all the disagreements were about,
and if there was anything
in their long lives
to have disagreed about at all.

were all those holy wars
myths masquerading as monarchs
when murderers, mainly,
they were?

i cannot look in nature,
for that too, is but a looking glass.
though in it
my reflection finds,
the maker of it
was a more masterful mind.

i cannot look
back and in
where the springs of me
are said to begin –
it is a snake,
eating it’s tail.
it is Narcissus’ fail.

in all that is about me
i cannot look.
but in the way of a mapless cat,
who innately discovers a course for home –
a home directionless and lost –

i search for you
endlessly.

for there is nothing else on earth
i wish to find.

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