The Aspiring Bard

Somewhere... The trees are greening, Buds are swelling, And birds are rejoicing In gentle winds And cloudless skies. Somewhere... New life is forming And pushing out Of moist, brown earth. Daffodils and crocuses Reaching toward the sun. Somewhere... The world is shaking free Of winter's grip And being renewed By sunshine And gentle rains. But here... I sit Under foreign stars And watch a dieing year Wane with the moon.

How I envy Your smug shell Of security! Convinced Of your invulnerability As you live your simple life. My own shell Has been broken. I can no longer believe That security is found In physical things. Suddenly, Comfort zones Are part of the past As I am pushed out of one life And into another.

Oh, how I want a silent place Where I can pour my troubled soul Out in shining tears beneath the starlight. Away from the uncaring ears Of a falsely joyful world Where smiles matter more than being real. With stifled sobs my heart is sore Oh, for the luxury of tears! To cry, and find some healing in my pain.