Mask

A naked man

hobbles along a back street
chasing his horse

all the while calling: 
'Wait. 
You are to do with me,

I know you are to do with me.

Wait.'

Even though his path

has become a spacious, 
more noble place

he keeps looking

down alleyways where

masks, gift wrapped

in small packages

of broken light

stare back,

glinting 
through shards of time..

Too sharp to touch,

too sharp 

to move beyond.

Passing
through warm streams

of love

do you also 
chase phantoms

in the looming dark,

when the task is complete

The Meeting, 
won.

And you 
are already 
yourself
perfectly,

like the pearl 
of a beautiful necklace

at rest

beside other pearls

joined 
in their perfection

one 
to the other.

~Candalipoetstory 2012