“The Reckoning”

To seek the sacred river Alph

To walk the caves of ice

To break my fast on honeydew

And drink the milk of paradise

-“Xanadu” Rush 2112

________________________________________________________________________

Doc Holliday and Wyatt, arm-in-arm.

Friends immortal-there’s the charm,

For any ideal know to man

For a future, real, foreverland.

I’m your huckleberry,

Blinded by facts and time.

I’m a ghost in Denang, or maybe Derry,

Yet your friend across blood and wine.

Afterlife, we all go somewhere,

I want to be with friends I hold dear.

I’ll take a song, a story, a beer-

With the people I love, forget the cheer.

We make our own reality.

It can be heaven or hell.

The secret to true immortality

Is a penny in a wishing well.

Weep not for the dead,

They are freed of our human bonds.

Some for good, and some for naught,

Unfettered from the Earthly fronds.

I may miss peanut butter,

I may miss wagon spokes,

I may miss thoughts of clutter,

I won’t miss wasted folks.

I want to cross the river,

And see the other side,

With a smile, a joy to deliver,

To the ones I lost who died.

Remember the good,

Forget the bad,

Reunite with the should,

Shed the guilty skin of sad.               

Missions

Earth mass covets a permanent endurance
Like the guillotine liberty-frenzied France.
Continents drift apart, just meandering
In nostalgia, fading in virgin springs.

Fires seek warm companionship of Angels,
Sadly discovering temporal tangles
Of mortal coil caches of immortal lust,
Turning ashes to ashes & dust to dust.

The winds, forever yearning, searching for love.
Yet failing soul quests lends to death from above.
The strongest whirly monsters even get named,
To fear/track each full-force-failed passionate game.

Water craves knowledge in journeys ne’er done,
Consumed in abandon, enslaved by the sun.
Surface tensions drown or give life, all perchance,
At a soundless concert, a motionless dance.