The Question of Pursuit; The Gospel of Finches.

Is it true?

Does Love really continue its pursuit after me?

On dusty chairs,
Behind the glowing light
Of a television set.
Polished shoes, walking these
Same lines
For too many years.
Is something brewing
Just between the cracks in the sidewalk?
Have I missed something in this air...
The finches they know -

Simplicity.
Yet, mystery
Of being.

Is it true?

Does Love really continue its pursuit after me?

After too many drinks
On too many evenings
Faces pass; I judge.
I scowl.
I laugh and it's not amusing.
Day in, day out.
Grows tired!
My footsteps grow curious of the lines, leading
Elsewhere

What's the cost?

Is there Love worth pursuing?

Make do, we can make do
With lesser forms, it seems.

So, I continue to walk these
Lines
Breathe this air
Though, I must admit,
The mere thought of

Something.

Someone.

So abstract, so

Unnameable.

So innate.

Pushing through the cracks.

Seeping into the soils.

Streams, creating the tiniest of canyons.

It's enough for me to wonder,

Enough to toe these unfamiliar shorelines

And say hello to the finches.