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Selected Poems of Steven Curtis Lance

Displaying Poems 1551 thru 1575 of 2858 Poems

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Apr 28, 2008, 12:13 pm

Could it Be?

Here I am and there you are
Alone as we can be

Each beneath a far blue star
In the solitariness
Of the arbitrariness

The extraordinariness
Of our separation here
Together you and me

Across the darkened universe
Sad eyes opening start to see
A stitch in the fabric of time
Where as in poems people rhyme

Do you believe in magic?

It is far but it could be far worse
In the starlight of a night so clear

And I believe in magic

Could your star and mine be the same?
Could what we think is far be near?
Could here be there and there be here?

Could it be?

Reach out your hand with all your heart
Believe we are neither to blame
And I will too

Two beneath one far blue star
Together you and me
There I am and here you are
Waiting for the magic to start

Of loving you

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 27, 2008, 6:35 am

Robert Frost and Me (Like a Chimpanzee)

"Diabolically intelligent"
Is how I read my cousin Robert Frost
Was and how he looked like a chimpanzee
In his great age (one thing by two things meant)
Mortal yet meant for immortality

I would buy my cousin's books if they cost
Less but can get them from the library
"Diabolically intelligent"
Sounds a wonderful way to me to be
(Even if he looked like a chimpanzee)

If younger cousin still an older guy
But lovely ladies love my poetry
And this has always been enough for me

I am celibate not quite knowing why
Which seems more mere habit than anything
Holding me back from having one last fling

Yet I wonder if Aristotle flung
Or old Homer having sung ever swung:
What of the love-life of the man of mind?

I want to come to life before it goes
Like Yeats I bloom within my heart a rose
But roses like hearts must be left behind

The one thing I can take will be this soul
When I must return (as we all must learn)
My piece out of the puzzle of the whole

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 26, 2008, 1:46 am


They live in glass houses: mirrors for eyes
An entirely different breed of cat
Always supposing themselves to be right
My meetings with them have suggested that
If they could they would wear boots to their thighs
And quite possibly have it in for me

All these years I have stayed out of trouble
By staying in with my portion double
To the kind of trouble mirrored eyes see
More for the doctor than the officer
Not worn outside but treasured inwardly
Though probably neither would understand

Mirrors and I agree to disagree
About troubles which are but never were

I live in a dark place: shadows for eyes
An entirely different breed of cat
It feels like where I am is always night
Your meetings with me have suggested that
If you would I could help you realize
There are many forms of reality

All these years I have wondered about things
Jumped in with both feet to find for myself
Places where the bird of paradise sings
Observed in the wild not stuffed on some shelf
To hold the important things by the hand
Treasures of the heart for eternity

Mirrors and we agree to disagree
About triumphs which are and always were

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 24, 2008, 2:55 am


These are the moments when our two lives touch
Like the confluence of underground streams
Little things which in the end mean as much
As big things because these things are our dreams
These are the moments of life lived as such

Without the mirror of another soul
Reflecting the me another can see
My perspective is only half the whole
And lacking in complementarity
To be my brother's keeper is my role

We reflect each other but we are two
The better to see another can be
The best thing for whatever might ail you
As you are for whatever might ail me
We dream and think and talk but then we do

With a friend like you can I get through this
And come out laughing on the other side?
Just make the pain stop never mind the bliss
Or other blessings we have been denied
(When I pull the trigger I never miss)

The moments of life must be lived as such
Bright rainbow-falls fed by underground streams
Little things which in the end mean as much
As big things because these things are our dreams
These are the moments when our two lives touch

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 23, 2008, 3:53 am

Heaven Knows

for Stephanie

So hard to believe but heaven knows we try
Since faith is a gift and few are so gifted
Such a rush to get it done before we die
The tide goes out before our boats get lifted
And so we are left to wait here high and dry
Sitting in the sand to watch the seagulls soar

They say the tide might turn in a tidal wave
And break our boats like it broke our hearts before
We stay by our boats not because we are brave
But because these are all we have and no more

And we always seem to feel so far from where
It seems possible to have a soul to save
From where we thought we ought to be while right there
Before us the angels adore us as we
Who try to make the best of a thing not fair
Surprise each other to feel like family

Not based on baked potatoes but earth and air
Not on life insurance but water and fire
The universe belongs to us if we care
To embrace it as the heart of our desire

We let go to get the desire of our heart
Nothing more nor less than pleasant company
Forget the real and let reality start
Close our eyes and dream we are able to see
Stop rushing and learn to live before we die
So hard to believe but heaven knows we try

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 21, 2008, 9:36 pm

Bad Hair Day?

Let the wind arrange my hair how it should be
If tousling is required by a universe
Which knows best (in any case better than me)

Poets look better when the weather is worse
Like Robert Frost when he read for Kennedy
Like Longfellow out at midnight all day long
Tousled in his mural at the library
(Or of course like Whitman any time at all)
Some wind through the hair makes a poet look... strong

The wind of the spirit the breath of the heart
The rising and then the falling of the breath
Signals to the drums for the parade to start
So the marching band can march to life from death

Shining Sousaphones now stand at attention
To strike up sudden and subterranean
Ready to root rainbows from bottom to top
Like a geyser or inverted waterfall
With colors too bright and many to mention
Except to recall them again and again

I feel the wind and never want it to stop
If tousling is required by the universe
Poets look better when the weather is worse

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 20, 2008, 3:17 am

Imagining the Unimaginable In

I have seen the unimaginable begin
To seem imaginable and something like glad
To help me unimagine what I imagine
Imagining the unimaginable in

What is unimaginable need not be bad
Perhaps a family friend as familiar guest
Not invited nor welcomed but nonetheless here
Before my face in any case ready or not

I can imagine some parts and forget the rest
But I will always recall the absurdity
Of madness as the reason for no-matter-what
And for the madness done no-matter-what to me
(How to have been used is how to have been abused)

If the curtain must fall I remember its rise
The first and last become one in the memory
I wonder if anyone can see in my eyes
That I have seen the unimaginable now

I will imagine muddling through the day once more
I think I can make it but could not tell you how
I will keep imagining until I can soar
My fall my rise the birth of hope the death of fear

An unimagined figure waits and holds the door
To a dark hallway leading down to dark-knows-where
(This is the adventure everyone else refused)
He smiles at me a little as I enter there
Because he knows this game is one I have to win

Imagining the unimaginable in
I have seen the unimaginable begin

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 18, 2008, 11:14 pm


Matters of imagination matter
The matter of dreams is what matters most
As at the end when certainties shatter
The body gives up life to free the ghost

I will not believe in reality
As some do and say I ought to believe
It may look real to them but not to me
My soul knows even when my eyes deceive

They ask each other how they are and say
No matter how it hurts that they are fine
They question their answers then turn away
Before their lines and leashes intertwine
Screaming inside they chirp have-a-nice-day

Some things are real past our ability
To understand them or to bear their weight
And these are those things which could only be
Only as they are as the points of fate

We go through the motions and do the best
We can though it is not enough we know
Praying we will not be brought to the test
Finding the test brought to us even so

And what about us now at last my friend
Here at the crossroads of the universe?

If not my imagination the end
Of reality for better or worse
Here at the end where certainties shatter
Is as good a time as any is to
Admit the matter of my dreams is you

Matters of imagination matter
You ask me do you matter: yes you do

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 16, 2008, 4:09 am

And Yes: When Broken Too

Conventional society deserves
Its own company: it gets on my nerves

But I avoid it pretty well somehow
With nerves preserved and pickled from the pain
Of being unconventional all day
Some nerve preserved to go against the grain
And then (cross-granular and squared away)
Some pickled nerve reserved to come again

Experience picked and pickled preserves
A sense of perspective and saves the nerves

This back-and-forth dialectic of now
Is the wonder of our wandering walk
The passage and the process of it all
Learning when to listen and when to talk
Learning when to listen especially

But I hate to listen to the cocksure
Like when proselytizers come to call
A convention for which the only cure
Is when the cocksure get knocked down like me
Here where cocksureness never could endure
To be cheek-by-jowl with its destiny

Our hearts will speak someday when they speak to
Answer the questions we ask of ourselves
Nobody knows these questions like we do
And so our hearts answer straight from themselves
When spoken to (and yes: when broken too)

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 14, 2008, 8:28 am


The rose-tips are topped with sucking insects
The buds despair to blossom with them there
Tipping with the weight of infestation
Ripped roses unspool disappointedly
And through the disappointment in the air
A hungry sparrow happens to hop by
As welcome as if by invitation

She gobbles up a few but soon rejects
These bloated bugs for fast food on the fly
She satisfied her curiosity

A sparrow can look for lunch anywhere
She finds the flotsam and the jetsam of
A bite of a burger and flung french fry
Part of a taco and a gummi bear
And some of yesterday's peanuts from me

Yesterday's causes are today's effects
As yesterday's hope becomes today's love
Today the seed sprouts planted yesterday

Those insects though they looked sweet from the sky
Were not what a hungry sparrow expects
Their exoskeletons were extra dry
But hungry sparrows always like to be
As scavengers the last ones to survive

She shrugs then flutters away fleetingly
And I understand because so must I
Still nobody gets out of here alive
So I turn away as I must and sigh
How this sparrow is fortunate that she
Is not to blame as these ripped roses die
She is just as she is supposed to be

A hollow-boned creature whistles goodbye
As much of the sky as I am earthbound
She leaves me by myself to wonder why
Roses like people so seldom seem free

While the hungry sparrows adapt and thrive
Seeming to live their lives effortlessly
We deal with our demons and diseases
As innocents experience has found

Juggling woes like bloated bugs in the air
We mumble through the liturgy of life
And giggle to encounter answered prayer
When it wells up within us suddenly

Then when a blossom or poem pleases
The rose is or I am redeemed to share
Since we know neither husbandman nor wife

I wish that sparrow could have saved that rose
Both were busy and had to bloom today
One was born to survive and always knows
That unlike the rose she can fly away
So she is always ready to surprise

A sparrow bloomed today if grey and small
She flew to find the freedom fate denies
Which I have never tasted anyway
Arising from ripped roses where they fall
To wipe the unbearable from my eyes
As all I am and all I have to say
A sparrow said it best though silently

I feel like I am a sparrow today

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 11, 2008, 7:19 pm


Doing my best to quest my destiny
Without asking too many questions of
A force which I could never understand
I am willing to bear the loneliness
Of being the way I am since I see
That the consequence of my onlyness
As a stranger lost in a stranger land
As one unable to assimilate
As such an unwitting contrarian
Such that I stick out like a sore thumb here
As a quite-possibly-dangerous-man
Is that while I flounder with the hand fate
Has dealt me here where the jokers run wild
I run across other strangers to love
Who found me because I was a lost child

I will always be lost and always found
Know who my friends are and where they are too
Know strangers who like to see me around
No strangers to each other (me and you)

How ironic becoming iconic

Especially as an iconoclast
Wearing a tall pointed hat on my head
In perfectly balanced absurdity
Acceptance seems a general tonic
And icons (as we know) are made to last
These portals of improbability
Where opposites can be reconciled once
They are given the opportunity
Where one can be a wizard and a dunce
Who knows to know nothing is everything
That winter releases the death of fall
Wiping the slate for a new question in
The time when planted questions sprout in spring
I never get any answers at all
But I enjoy it when questions begin

If anyone asks I was just asking

Unanswered questions being ironic
Of something I could never understand
A once-a-dunce becoming iconic
As a stranger lost in a stranger land

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 9, 2008, 10:43 pm


It is the ghost within which haunts the faces
Of certain people in uncertain places
As the outside is affected by the in
So the spirit is revealed beneath the skin
The animus itself the animation
Which distinguishes the living from the dead
And whether dignity or indignation
The soul or whatever one calls it instead
Is there to be easily read on the face
Of the certain within an uncertain place

Let this be our sign of solidarity
A reminder to both of us that we live
That I can read you just as you can read me
Where we so often feel such isolation
Though certainly we are denied certainty
We remain to take what existence might give
In our take-it-or-leave-it situation

Though we bet it all and they say we will lose
Let us dare each other to rise up and choose
To do something about it before we go
Perhaps be remembered for something we make
And since we are certain of uncertainty
If we never try how can we ever know?
Where certainty bends there uncertainty breaks
The human race survives on the empathy
Which I share with you and which you share with me
Life is held together by a few handshakes

And one thing of which I feel certain is this:
Life gives no greater certainty than a kiss
The ghost shared within the soul beneath the skin
Shared certainly (even in uncertainty)

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 8, 2008, 11:27 pm

Close Encounter

for Katy Conrad

What is this in the mirror?
Could this shadow really be
The image of the existential me?
More confusing when clearer
My surprised eyes start to see
Not just themselves reversed but otherwise
This is an epiphany

These eyes of a stranger to whom surprise
Would be as alien as is this face
Of alien familiarity
Familiar once yet unfamiliar now
This face not of what is but what could be
This face of otherwise which wears my eyes
Seeming to bear them more confidently

My conjoined twin separated at birth
When it fell to me to fall to this place
To stumble around without knowing how
To live life first from and then toward the earth
Feeling from and reeling toward fromness of
And towardness of this place where time and space
Move in place here as though from and toward love

The motions of the heartbeat and the breath
I assume now as I assume these eyes
Which comprehend even as they consume
Their parallel existence at a glance
Somehow more like orgasm than like death
And unpresumptuous nonetheless presume
To deconstruct this structure known as Lance

From two sides of the mirror
Face two halves of the whole
As near evolves to nearer
I see into my soul

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 7, 2008, 2:45 am

Change Your Mind

I have been a busy beaver
An overachiever
And I want and need to believe
Sometime before I leave
There might be meaning to be found
Through me by those around

Where would I go what could I do
Except be here with you?
Life may not be an answered prayer
But here means something there
Or so we have been led to say
So they say anyway

Though an uncertain believer
I hope it might be so
And that someday I know for sure
We will be who we were
If only outlines on the ground
But then we never know

And our not knowing is an ill
For which there is no cure
Since the only way to find out
As soon enough we will
Is death the end which leaves no doubt
But leaves the skull grinning

A doubtless and a primal end
Or final beginning
For those who give life for a friend
Who lay it down then rise
Together through shared open skies
Losing and yet winning

We might as well embrace mortality
The better to taste our time as it flies
We might as well be friends here you and me
Together to separate truth from lies
The beast released is what is left behind
When we let go of ego: change your mind

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 6, 2008, 2:45 am


The circle is the shape which satisfies
It shows us the beginning as the end
Symbolic of departure and return
The shape to borrow or the shape to lend
Of new life being born as old life dies
The shape to return by the shape we send

A young man goes on his journey to learn
And if he comes back home again he brings
A lesson learned the hard way home with him
And when no longer young an old man sings
About it gravely though it was a whim
Of a young man who was curious to see
If he could do it and who found he could
I know this because he used to be me
And if I could remember more I would

The circle is the shape to harmonize
Our coming and going the gain and loss
The up and down of both ends as the same
Of our departing and our arriving
The shape which joins the credit to the blame
Of being fired and of being the boss

The circle is the shape of surviving
All the pain of getting back home again
Where gold is gleaned from detritus and dross
Where souls are lost their circles still remain
As ruts worn in the earth by the striving
Of the limited for the limitless
The temporary for the permanent
Like a dog who chases his tail unless
The dog knows it is his and where it went

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 5, 2008, 1:37 am

Night Lights

for Darlene Lance and Christie Torgerson

Is anyone else as disappointed as
I am? Somehow I thought I would be all right
But what the cruel tyrant known as time has
Left for me as legacy seems only night
Without day: origin without destiny

Somehow I dreamed that I might be the one to
Undo such damage as could be undone to
Crushed flowers like us one petal at a time
That maybe I could heal the world by singing
And planting songs I hoped would be understood
Gathering the harvest then in reams of rhyme
With the hope my best would be judged to be good
As it was and is by those who have seen it
In papers they found around the neighborhood
Who never have any money but mean it

And so I have made some friends a lot like me
People who have nothing but will have their say
The songs I planted sprouted and are bringing
Sparks in the dark across the night back and forth
Where my night lights seem to dawn on some as day

Only love can know what a poem is worth
The kisses the poet receives for his pay
But there are few who love and many who wait
For money I owe who will not go away
And no one ever wins who opposes fate
Except for someone as disappointed as
I am who somehow thinks we could be all right
Though what the cruel tyrant known as time has
Left for us as legacy seems only night
Since we are day: origin as destiny

If anything good is to happen then I
Like a spark in the dark from a falling star
Must embrace my origin as destiny
Holding on for dear life to the comet's tail
And do it myself or else die asking why

If anything good is to happen then we
However separated however far
Who seem to have been left here all alone
But surely must not have been left here to fail
Must overcome our fear of the unknown

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 4, 2008, 1:01 am


Come reader on a little ride with me
A magic carpet journey just for two
Let go a little while to come along
And what I show you no one else can see
Unless they see it through that second sight
By which I saw it and now by which you
Will find it spelled out in the stars tonight
A pattern in the pieces of the sky
To map the treasure buried in your heart
Which is the point and purpose of my song

If you are ready now the time is right
For something which need never stop nor start
Or something which can only always be
If you prefer to think of it that way
By which the young bud wise the weak bloom strong
Set free by captive curiosity
It takes some getting used to but you may
Enjoy what is without a reason why
Not needing to know why this is that way
No reason why not (while the iron is hot)

What I would like to see is you be free
So like a grizzled little wizard I
Am here to sprinkle stardust on your day
Until the moon has waned and I must die
When I have lived a long time anyway
And celebrated specificities
Of mysteries I never understood
Except that life is sweet and it is good
To map the treasure buried in your heart
Which is the point and purpose of my song

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Apr 1, 2008, 10:14 pm

Someday When We Look Back

Someday when we look back on all of this
Even if only in heaven by half
Or God forbid only in hell by whole
The only thing to do then is to laugh
To see this from above or from below
Instead of in the middle of it all
And to know we shared a very near miss
Prevented from falling even as we
Spun in the spiral of our fatal fall
Seen from the future of a frightened past

Where we stumbled through a shadowed valley
Of death where breath is never known to last
Past where heartbeat stops when then we must go
From darkness to where they say we can see
The whole of things (but then they may not know)
A perspective change from vain to so vast
It took life to get that fast from that slow
Up to see meaning in its entirety

They say it waits there on top of the hill
A truth so true that no one can control
What seems an improbable climb to me
Although I never was a mountaineer
To climb by blind faith believing that day
Will dawn at last after our night spent here
But I need the exercise anyway
If anyone can see something we will
If not me then you (as you always do)
And if you see it first then show me too

Our climb in any case is underway
We only took what we needed to be
Ourselves our way no matter what they say
The part we never part with is our soul

The only thing to do then is to laugh

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 31, 2008, 7:52 pm


for D. L.

At which point in the song does one begin
To sing? Since I forgot the beginning
My memory of the middle is thin
And what I know of the end is thinning
Into one silver syllable of sound
Spun by a spider as a filament

If there is to be a next time around
The sun for lonely denizens of space
I hope those who come after know I meant
To sing it as they say from end to end
With what comes in the middle in its place
But one end and the other were the same

The song internalized me like a friend
Wearing my face and going by my name

So now the song and I are only one
Whereas one used to think of us as two
Where time and space combine in unity
When the song is done then it is begun
Complete when it is only halfway through
I made the song because the song made me

Here in this overlapping of our sun
My song and I are one and all for you
And all for one great synchronicity
In which we find we finally belong
The universe embracing you through me
Your voice the incarnation of my song

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 30, 2008, 10:50 pm

The Hand You Feel Within Yours

to welcome Darlene to the family

A barking lunatic who learned to howl
I mean to mark my moment of the moon
By meditation and my notation
Of what I might find without and within
The poetry of our situation
And share it in an avuncular growl
With chosen ones who have chosen to be
My relatives by human relation

As I like to be especially me
And now is the only time to begin
So now I encourage you to be too
Especially you as the rose is blown
Where something happens out of our control
We unfold petals we have never known
There where the lotus blooms inside the soul
Unfolding an ever-evolving we

No human being has to be alone
But for the great aloneness we all share
As sign and seal of our humanity
Worn round our necks as long as we are here
Along with philosophy faith and fear
Sharp shards of curiosity of where
We are and how as whom and even why
We are at all if we are born to die

We think about fortune drink about fate
We mean to do good and hope to do well
We try pretty much whatever we can
We scratch about heaven cringe about hell
And end up feeling like an also-ran
Like someone cheated at the starting gate
Where no one sees across the finish line
But the hand you feel within yours is mine:

No human being has to be alone

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 28, 2008, 10:00 pm


My life has not been as I thought it would be
Having known much more of bother than of bliss
I have never amounted to very much
Except for this and this is not very much

At the height of my powers within a few hours
I nevertheless will get depressed again
Having hoped to leave a mark and not a stain

But for the moment I will riddle you this
Little word puzzle and hope you smile awhile

I never was out nor ever was in style
Both of which have worked out pretty well for me
As I have attempted to find equipoise

I made some music and I made some noise

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 28, 2008, 7:35 am


The usefulness of a window or door
Like an empty pot or the hub of a wheel
Lies in the absence these things manifest
Where to be is not to be there less is more

Wherein emptiness is put to the test
Of utility in an absence as real
As a wall or what might go into a pot
And where the spokes converge the wheel is not

The best things ever said are those which never were

Embraced by silence love speaks eloquently
In communication curvilinear

Our emptiness is filled by our propinquity

We find ourselves here where little is clear
Except that it is useful for us to be
A window or a door which opens near
A pot to hold all potentiality

Toward the hub of a wheel we know well but
Only as hope yet our hope no matter what
Of coming together convergently
Here at the clear hub now where the wheel is not

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 26, 2008, 12:38 am

Good-Looking People

Good-looking people have easier lives
They seem to have less trouble than I do
With good-looking houses cars husbands wives
Children pets collectibles and treasures
And then when they want to try something new
Friends with whom to seek forbidden pleasures
Just be good-looking and good things ensue

Sometimes they get in trouble but so what?
When they get out of jail they can go back
To a soft place in a good-looking rut
In their good-looking world as sweet as pie

I wish that I could be good-looking too
But that would be the least of things I lack
I would like some health care before I die
(Do I even dare to dream of dental?)
Though sick I cannot afford to know why
I look pretty bad and I have mental
Quirks (for example: writing poetry)

Is it too late for plastic surgery?
And even if it is not I forgot
That half-a-million figure is in red
Which means not what I have but I have not

So I will just take a shower instead
And be glad my three children look so good
The good-looking genes skipped right over me
My parents looked like models cool and tall
But for reasons not clearly understood
All their good looks passed right over my head
I look like a walking catastrophe

Yet sired good-looking people after all

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 24, 2008, 10:11 pm

Then and When and Now

We might not have been happy when
We thought so since we were
Posed to be as supposed but then
Supposed is never clear
So squinting unsurprised we see
Life squinting back a blur

And this point of infinity
Is what we know as here

So here we are half through the night
Half sleeping half awake
Our day half dark our night half light
And in this give and take
We end up getting only what we gave
And then we disappear without a trace
Except the dust of us at best a grave
Yet warm in someone's heart our smiling face

I believe we are happy then
At first and last and best
The sun will hatch a new day when
It nestles in the west

Then is the time for us to see
What when would not allow
And this point of infinity
Is what we know as now

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII

Mar 23, 2008, 2:50 am


Ultimately how it will be is you and me
Little else really matters anyway
I have waited for you as you tried to break through
And you have broken through at last today

Congratulations my friend

Let us celebrate the end
Of what we both recognize as the beginning
Of an endgame we know is ours for the winning

Ultimately how it will be is one great we
Across the world and through the universe
As we transcend ourselves into eternity
We hope for better since we have known worse

All we ever have is hope

We never have enough rope
With which to hang ourselves nor restrain anyone
From hanging us as we shine flashlights at the sun

When the sun goes down our beams will shine forever
Though small and weak to shine for all to see
As we wait here on the brink of never
Alone with hope and with our lonely will to be

Ultimately how it will be is you and me
Little else really matters anyway
I have waited for you as you tried to break through
And you have broken through at last today

As we begin at the end
I celebrate you my friend

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVIII


Displaying Poems 1551 thru 1575 of 2858 Poems

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