The Ghosts Of Opportunity

The Ghosts Of Opportunity

I am 

here again

watching this chandelier fall

in slow motion, 

while those with scissors

claim to be witnesses, 

holding themselves in a well-worn box

that they claim to have never

seen before.

I stand in a

different place,

yet my view is familiar.

And I have no need to travel 

there again.

We once were children

all coming from the same place

of hope and restless anger

railing together at the world

we wanted to 

tear down

tear down

then we could rebuild it all

together

in masks of our own mirrors

and wishes.

It all got so close,

to sustaining the dreams

of weary dreamers,

but the hands that

hold you back

cam sometimes be your own,

and everything began to

break down

break down

slowly,

and I walked away

when finally

there was no ship to save.

Circles collide 

over passing pages.

I wanted to believe

in it all again,

to complere the sentence

that I had started

so long ago.

But what trips us

toppled you again,

and once again it all

begins to

fall down

fall down

again, 

like before,

but as the shards 

bounce upon the floor,

I see the reflection of things

as they are,

and I see 

where I have to go

and I will go on 

again

without you.

This freedom

is the saving grace

of this quiet charade,

stepping away from the wreckage

of your inertia, 

and the answers you will never know,

or will ever be willing 

to accept. 

The ghosts of opportunity

have passed through us again, 

howling in voices

you will not hear,

but calls me to places

that I have yet to be,

yet still believe in. 

You may have led me here,

but I am the one

that will lead myself on,

to wherever

I am to go. 

I am here

I am leaving

I was here

I am gone

-Daniel Coston

April, 2012