Wandering Souls


There are souls

travelling aimlessly

on the paths of wanderers.

Without possession or guile,

at one with the elements,

they slide from one to the other,

Becoming this and then that.

Invisible in this wilderness of eyes,

they watch in disbelief

as they stumble unseeing

amidst the refuge.

How long they have denied themselves

the love they sought.

How far they have come to escape it.

Broken, they lie along the path

shorn of all volition.

I wonder how long they must wait

before they can heal

and rise up again

from those trash filled urns

to search the roads of their desire

for the doors of their emergence

once more in every grain of sand.

Now the bus is full again

and I shall not be deceived.

sitting there across the aisle,

I see you rub your weary feet

before you deviate and depart

when the next stop arrives.

How else can we be released

from this circuitous route we ride?


El Aguacate, Jal, Mx


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