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Drew's Plays, Prose & Poems
Poetry by Rachel A. Gold


Drew Hurley

Sweet dreams and well wishes

may satisfy the logical mind,

but not the human soul.

The bird-song pasions

of the human breast

are but constrained within that phalanx

of meaning called words.

We strain the existant vocabulary

in the vain hope of penning

the essence of a feeling

within a corral of wooden phrases.

And know that the caged bird cannot sing.



Is life so melancholy, and for naught?

The purpled midnight emotions

of the human soul still course the channel of man;

and we still breathe and communicate

our fears and doubts, as best we can,

with a shrug, a sigh,

an eagled wave of the hand or a lustful leer.

Yet our song is bitter-sweet,

for, like the caged bird, we cannot fly.



Make life not dreary, sad or drab.

All men share one velveted secret longing:

to be remembered -- and with love.

Love alone is not enough;

the remembering gives life its haunting refrain.

Nor will remembering itself suffice,

except as a hollow oracle

to some long forgotten diety.

Think then of love remembered,

and mark it well!

For as a bird, we shall know the freedom of love

and the song we sing is of remembering.


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Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:47:54 EDT