Still a Searcher, Must Ride the Dark Horse

I am the colours behind your eyelids
Sunshine daydream chiaroscuro
The optic fibrous gangliac Ovid
Night-time vigil of all you don’t know

I am the silence between the drum-beats
Sucking the air through ossicular chain
The eighth nerve objects to your musical sheets
Demanding an altogether different refrain

I am the word on the tip of your tongue
The thoughts that climb your ladder legs
And salivating savour every rung
Like a fire walker treading broken eggs

I am in the space between these words
Filling the halls so long deserted
By players and dealers of the six of swords
Crossing the water with faces averted

June 2009
Title from Neil Young's Tell Me Why

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