At The Surface Of These All.....

it is nice at the top
there is more fun in there
at the surface one sees
sun and landscapes of
plains and trees and houses and
trains and
roads,

at night, it is a city of
glittering diamonds
and you are on top of this
situation

it is nice swimming at the surface
seeing the rest enjoying their splash of
days

but it gets lonely
sometimes, at first, then most of the times
the nights are like clinging hands
pulling you down to
some depths of your
kept oceans

showing you the dark side
of your existence
the most silent part of it
this one
tells you the truth
and speaks straight to you
without
the flowers of
euphemistic living

you are plunged into a vast silence of the
deepest part in you
and you take all the risk
that somehow because of too much pressure
you break down into
pieces of
broken stars

porcelain, glass, cracking
and this inability to join the pieces together
makes you
incomplete again into the emptiness of your
being

what i hear is sighs in the depths like
some kind of
whales communicating that there is something greater
down there

rather than the top the surface which may offer you
a loud life laughing
but then deep inside their is this wailing and mourning
as though someone so well loved
has just passed away.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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