Ever Present Presence Proud

The sad ineffable now betrays me.

Like yoke to the oxen it channels my thoughts
into pathways of the ill-defined past.

I surrender to the brook-voiced murmurings that
fall outside my blindered sight and yet
sell to me the ghosts of my

childhood dread.

I surrender to that which tickles my thoughts
and stages dramas I could wish to
be cast with heroes.

There by a whirlpool of neglected wrath
I sway and threaten to fall in.

Perhaps a path of righteous fire, burned clean by
bargained temperament’s recasting,
will open a laddered escape
to heaven.

There placing a mercy, called forth and portioned
meagerly upon a character less than
sorrowful but still in fear
of generational rebuke.

My legacy, hastily viewed but in patience wrung, is
pressed into my heart until I find myself
uncomfortable in my breathing.

The blood-pulse tattoo beat drums a dirge and shows, in
powerful song, a breath that rattles its way to
the inevitable end.

Yet still I crave the present.

Too soon the coda.
Too soon the last of this earth.

Not shortened could I wish this battle-timed measure.
No rushing will succeed. Rather tortoise-tread becomes
the pace that wins.

In the freedom of my wishes it’s to the light I reach.

Why not more steps that beat more fervent now than ever?
Why not extend the trail?

Lay on!

For when I’m done, forever waits for me.


Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner