Two-way Traffic
i am shying away for a while from you.
i've been good, i think, i followed the rules.
i talk to you but i feel that it is only the air talking back to me.
i offer flowers they all wilt without being smelled by you.
i offer food like what the chinese do to their dead beloved.
they get moldy even untouched
cockroaches feast on the rice and fish.
i visit your place
no one is around
there is no note where you are
there is no number that i can possible contact you
i retrace my steps back to my house
and they tell me that you are a spirit and everywhere
i must be crazy talking to the air
the trees the grass and the clouds
i am so empty
you are not here with me
my heart is as hollow as a cellophane back filled with my own breath
i ask all these questions to you
at night when i am all alone
i sleep on the rooftop
hoping that you will see my despair
still you are not there
sometimes i ask
is it really true that others besides myself
have seen you?
i want a personal experience with you
where are you?
where are your hands?
where is your heart?
where is your mind?
O, Lord.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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