arcane silence

a silent, gyring ocean
beyond the train’s window
upon which my face rests
bellowing pulsating clouds
of condensation

into a passing night
I cast my desires
for peace
enough money
and meaning

a sombre reticence
beyond a train’s chug
is no answer
imbibing
negative inverted day
beyond my reflection
or portrait
which hangs above the ocean
and I process
names, faces
and souls
imagining their thoughts
clearer than my face now

I crop a tainted
mood-conditional picture
of truth.
Clinging to it as a fact
Is that my weakness?
Yet I listen
to the train’s rhythm
in the back of my mind
and find an elevation in my breath.
A break in this arcane silence.

Herein; please bestow a forefather’s voice
in this stream
which pulsates my
being with life force.
And give me guidance.
Let me know I travel right.
In my ever longing for,
freedom from concern.

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