Lost lane-end
I dropped my house key somewhere down a dark
alley.
I search for it under the streetlamps where the
light is better.
Everything is happening right now,
where I stand, but instead of studying it
through my particular chink in the fence
I prefer to view the world spaciously,
spending my time in the bright lights,
near the traffic’s roar, amidst the milling crowd.
The lost bright key to my house awaits me
but there are too many unknowns down that dark
rabbit hole.
I might get crushed or go missing with no one
to hear me cry out, console me or lend a hand.
Better to blend and pretend to myself and others
I’m faithfully attending to business –
fatedly ignoring the only chance I might have
this lifetime of entering again my home.
O child of God, you search like Wolfe before you
for a door, the lost-lane end into heaven.
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