Mountains of Delight (rev)

The problem was in manner of choice
or whether there was a choice for that
matter. You reduced them as you had
to do, choosing what was right for you;
there is no shame and no reproving,
it’s legitimated by your doing.

Odd conventions weigh against events
believed logical but not in your natural
reality. Denied restraints I am poised
halfway to lunacy’s sanctuary – buoyed
by useless knowledge which cannot aid
defence against prescriptions of fate.

Hoped for better life, fairytale endings
expressed as fine destiny. Too late to
make it thus I know, but I won’t desert
an ally of the same romanticism, born
steadfast and true, grew worldly wise,
at least in light of my colour-blind eyes.

Cannot choose other than this singular
place, of which you know as do I there is
no manner of choice in the matter – and
accepted irrevocably in choosing you. It
was never a question of winning or losing,
was purely a matter of simply choosing.

Can we face this flight in concert, judging
not a road to come by looking backwards
where we’d find no pathway we could climb?
The mountains of despair which rise out of
the distant past are no surprise; our plight
should make them mountains of delight.
© June 13th 2005, I.D. Carswell