Cogito ergo sum

Cogito ergo sum

The sun sets over the horizon and it's beauty turns to darkness,

Jacaranda blossoms turn to litter, 

their exuberance a sad fall from grace,

theirs is a path his mind now follows. 

The buzzing sound no longer heard aloud,

the winds gentle feel on his back,

a reminder of all the words that at some point freely poured out of his mouth. 

He stands here deserted, 

not at ease with what was, 

not able to grasp this new aloneness. 

He stands here inspite, of his feelings forming a dam, 

where everything grows, every tree blossoms and yet his words do not bear fruit. 

The words always at arms length never reached, 

the beat just that, the pen just a tool, 

a symbol of a mundane existence, 

life without the journey it's ink once sprouted. 

The artist alone, gazing at another white canvas, 

his mind a blank slate, 

again never holding the brush firm. 

Each A-B-C a maze, 

no longer littered with bread crumbs to lead his soul home. 

He'd stare at a traffic light red for minutes on end remember phrases to a poem he'd likely forgotten he had said once, 

in the mirror, 

to his child like face, 

the first time he'd felt himself soaked in brilliance, 

the first time his words sounded like song, like sun's rays, or water creeks, 

the first time he'd felt gravity beneath him fade for a moment, 

see the words from his dreams take shape like ghosts ferrying the newly dead. 

Feel truly happy, 

feel time stop, 

feel his body crave another, 

be the canvas of bright colors, 

each poem an expectant release. 

His pen the bearer of dreams, his words everything his mind speaks. 

What once was, gone now, 

like when the sea recedes at dawn. 

His canvas still white, 

his paint brush firm, 

the moon now over the horizon were the sun once was, 

speak poetry aloud at the top of his voice again and again, 

bleed out all the words he felt. 

28/08/21✔️

'Cogito ergo sum' is Latin for 'I think, therefore, I am'

"Ars longa, vita brevis."