The Watcher (circa 1995)

She leads me down the street
And lets me watch the people passing
Lets me look into their eyes
As we walk on

I see glimpses of their worlds
Each immense beyond describing
I reach out but she pulls back
And we are gone

She bids me not to speak
For to do so would ensnare me
And drag me into their worlds
To lose the light

My mind wants to explode
With the weight of all the people
But she will not let it show
Our face is tight

So submitting I walk on
Leaving all the worlds behind me
Never knowing if just one
Would understand

And while facing straight ahead
I hope one will recognize me
And break through their own disguise
And take my hand

[Posted because it explores some of the same themes as my last post, and I’d forgotten I wrote this at all. The ending is different because I was young and still very much in the grip of this, rather than an adult looking back.]



A tiny seed of redwood sorrel, slumbering in its soil nest
Stones in its lowest spots say to grow upward
Silent hope for something sorrel can’t explain
Stirrings that see it slip from the soil, seeking sun
Sun on the leaves sweet sugar within
Sorrel is social, surrounded by sorrel-friends
Redwood sorrel seeks solely to live in the light
Supported by soil, the sun in the sky shining down

[Writing prompt – redwoods – provided by binghsien.]

Afraid to Exist

I saw myself and shook from head to toe
I heard my voice cry out from deep within
I ran away, I couldn’t bear to know
I chose to think existence was a sin
I wanted to join in with all the world
The smells, the tastes, the textures called to me
Around my hand, another’s hand was curled
She told me I would drown if I was free
So interest was forbidden from my face
Lest someone notice I was still alive
I stayed afraid to join the human race
Lest I be carried off by ocean tides
     One day the tide did sweep me out to sea
     Instead of being drowned, it set me free