Here stands I, this place, this time,
Alive, aware, in existence snare,
I feel the cold, I see the old,
Breath in and out, life’s tide without,
Soul’s cell, confined in time and space,
Life’s mileage passes in other’s faces,
Cricket’s chirup, fellowspirits lurk,
They breath, and feel, live and love.
Life’s parade in time and space,
I look within to see the din,
Of thoughts, memories, places I’ve seen,
Of sounds I’ve heard,
Of things absurd,
Etched in the marrow of my soul.
I look outside of me and see,
Spaces and stuff, all around me,
Foreign beings from other times,
Kindred spirits walking the line,
Towards eternity, where souls are free,
They want what I want,
They see what I see,
They have needs the same as me,
We walk life’s long silent tyranny,
Foreigners lost upon the sea,
Taking chances along with risks,
Trampling Feet on Lifes moving disks.
Do people stop and ask themselves why,
Or do they simply walk on by,
Shutting out sounds from deep within,
Soul’s propelled by flesh’s demands,
Living in existence snare,
Caught in this Time Warp in the air.
By Simon Shields 29th October 2004