The Lions Are Sleeping

I was afraid
 that when I left you there, on the corner
you would begin to dissolve into soft unimportant pieces in my mind
float on by, losing your edges like the condition of clouds,
and never return. 
I was afraid that the part of my soul and laughter and belief
 that I sliced off of my heart
 for you
would disappear as well
like it does.
relentlessly. always.  never
to be put right again. 
the heart grows back hard. the veins seal up,
the capillaries wither.  you can see the scars
left over from the memories of beautiful afternoons. and summers
of unabridged anticipation.
goodness
leaves wounds too. 
and it never heals right.  like
it used to be. whole. honest. serenely open. 
And when I was obscene. scream. blood and broken wrist.
from punching holes in the routine.
 it was because of this thought.
of returning to the empty. the spacious comfortable
of complying with the predictable amnesty of ordinary
come and
let go. disappear.
 these hearts aren't made for reliving and recreating every six months.  
I don't want to forget.  the birth of my happiness in regards to you.   
because I don't want to become numb,
and hard
and cold
and lifeless from overuse.
too many journeys along the same path.
until our climb becomes only a stroll,  and the dangerous and mysterious
fade away
into
monotonous
ambiguity. 
Am I a contributor as well?   I do not wish to become one.
of these
complacent ones.
No.  Is this how it is for us?
NO.  For everyone who has loved and begun and ended?
and starts again.  and again.    and again.
replicating the curves and sculpture of every past
love story.   until the soul only knows how to
imitate forgotten and tired emotions.
As I leave, 
I feel myself
release..  part of my spirit and the part of my song
that is irreplaceable. gets buried
in the median between lanes of slow moving traffic, beneath the fallen branches of redwoods.
  I am aware as the blurred, silver streetlights fade
behind me
each of us eventually becomes
only
a soft glow
inside the other
's mind. 
I resent this about the human condition.
without causing a mess of things. 
I am not sure how it will change.
Or how to keep you as an ember inside my thoughts.






Andrew Tipton