.

.

With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world.
We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky,
and lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye.
‘Stories of the Street” – Leonard Cohen / Songs of Leonard Cohen

I stand here on this dirty stoop and watch the world go by
A sense of the familiar comes, but I can’t figure why
These walls of my horizon cannot touch the clear blue sky
Of the home of my childhood, with its vistas wide and green
The thought to even compare such, to me is just obscene
Yet the feeling weighs upon me, a slow careful unfurl
Like this star that’s drawn among all the writing on the wall
How it matches the pendant of this sweet thing I recall
The thoughts weave through my muddled mind, as timelines start to swirl
With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl

In the middle of this day, I’m taken back to that night
Though it’s a sweet, sweet memory, I know it’s not quite right
The strong sense of euphoria, of happiness, of light
It wraps itself around me, a feeling I can’t shake yet
Like that lingering dampness after being cold and wet
I wait for it to come, a new wisdom to be pearled
With the magic of the city from a secret wand thrown
I blend into the dankness, one of the many unknown
Just another cast off penny, with a final wish hurled
I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world

You pass me as I stand here, suddenly it all makes sense
All the odd and wild sensations that held me in suspense.
Memories of homeland, pummel me with force intense
You don’t say a single word, but I feel it in my core
I somehow know you’re now my home, and yet you’re so much more
This sprawling festering city seems small with an ally
You’re a dream remembered; details forgotten start to gel
I watch you sink from view, as you descend to subway hell
Where a man’s dream of the world comes in such a small supply
We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky

But this dream was meant to be, once I gazed upon your face
A gentle whiff of homeland, in this god-forsaken place
The familiar in the unknown – what you bring to my space
But first I have to woo you, let you know, we’re meant to be
An oasis for just two, in the midst of this city
Still not knowing how I’ll do it, just knowing I must try
I quickly follow my instincts into this moving mass
Surrounded by so many, yet I only see you lass
I stand alone among the din, this massive human sigh
And lost among the subway crowds, I try to catch your eye.

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Yes, me and my old friend the Glosa join forces with Cohen again.

dVerse  Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight : Week 97