Living Statue

Silent, he sits entranced in his own enigma of thought.

I wait. I watch,

Not knowing how to reach or touch him.

And if I did, what would I discover?

A man enslaved by his daring dreams of conquest,

Or a little boy daydreaming of barefoot wading 

in cool, shallow pools?

So far away, absorbed in other worlds, is he.

Too far away for loving eyes to see,

for aching arms to reach,

for romantic dreams to whisper,

for lonely lovers to embrace.

I wait. I watch,

Not knowing how to reach or touch him.

But if I could, what would I say?

Come rest in the peace of my fond embrace,

Or go away you hurtful fool that disturbs my life

like a tempest tossed sea stirring?

Your faraway absorptions in other worlds leave me

Too far away  for loving eyes to see,

for aching arms to hold,

for romantic dreams to whisper,

for lonely lovers to embrace.

I wait. I watch,

As you break my heart.

~ P.S. Colley

Sept. 1, 1989

Cries of the Unheard