A GATE
by worninshoes
It begins, a tiny pebble
on a gravel road
after a rainstorm:
a flash of mica;
a glint of feldspar;
a sparkle like clear quartz
against brown sand.
Just a simple attraction,
then a gnawing appeal –
a narrow slippery slow path.
Addiction beckons
down a lane
with no end,
only a beginning.Consumption.
Drawn in; searching
for only a little more,
always more;
there must be more!
Soon your road leads
Along daunt desolation,
deserted beaches, distant shores
where it’s said there lie
heaps of epitome
beside epidotic epidemic episodes.
A sudden flickering fire calls
Your eye; its sight is faint
at first; it fails to understand
what it sees in awe.
Such vivid vibrant varied colors!
Skies turn to thunderous blue sound,
black roiling clouds to melody;
wind becomes sharp pelting hail;
surreal swirls rush
welling deep inside you,
spewing forth, aflame.
Reach, quick! rapidly!
before it eludes your grasp.Too late; gray waves
pull it all away from view,
then wash it back again.
It taunts you, teases…
you reach, you strain.
You lose the feeling
tugging your senses;
you must reach again –
reach far, reach hard –
for there, before you,
Almighty God’s creation:
volcanic chalcedonic nodules,
holy microcrystalline reflections
in the haven of heaven’s release;
remorseless amygdaloidal basalt;
your will undiminished
yet unfulfilled like
cavities in copper rock
left devoid by eons of eternity
then hardened into liquid orbs
and bands and bursts;
they erupt inside themselves.
Exploding endorphins
inside you scream silently,
then suddenly satiate desire.
Still there must be more;
the shore is endless
everlastingness; a promise,
a hope for more,
always more!On you search, plodding
slow uncertain steps;
no turning back again,
not now; no turning back,
never back; for where
is there to return
that has not expired?
Sun rays promise
Another, greater, higher level;
excitement beyond imagination
if only you can find that fire
among a billion stars,
a trillion stones;
a blink, an instant:
there must be more.
Always just one more…A gate to places
that cannot be found.
No finding satisfies
addiction; no, its glow,
a new discovery –
not of it, but by it…
Letting go is being found.
Allow that you may be found;
let it hold you, grip you,
grasp you, grope you;
let it take your breath…©2012 by Richard Kindervater and worninshoes, all rights reserved
great metaphors and descriptive here for addiction!!! as you describe, it just pulls the reader along.
anything but
You describe this so very well, shoes. (Love the name of your blog) The feeling of always trying to get a little more and never quite getting there, never being able to fill that empty space. I’m so very glad you joined us and this gave me the “ticket” to discover your blog. Thank you!