Thoughts rumble through my head
Like thunder in a valley that I’ve fled
In this vast space of time and light
It’s a stark difference from the night
Unsure of this journey and phase
Watching for a sign in the maze
Lost, found, lost, found, lost
Can I afford the mounting cost?
A strange voice tempts my ears
It lulls and starts to calm the fears
Loneliness beckons with its desire
Hazy with the allure of a cold fire
Letters scrawled on pieces of stone
This ink of mine drips blood on loan
Whether I sink or float in this new land
Depends on the hourglass and its sand
Too early to tell, unable to return
It all amounts to what I yearn
Coldness of air chills my lungs
As I pray to the God of Suns.
A poem by Jason S. Sullivan, 07-10-20