Poem: Occulted man, waits.

OCCULTED MAN, WAITS… ┬áby MichaelBurns

A thousand years inside a stone, at the bottom of a frozen…lake.

Glacier slow the earth reactors warmed it,

the sun dried up the lake.

New green showed it’s tender leaves.

And crowding in around, and thought it theirs.

Years flicker in time, as bubbles in a clear glass.

Images from one brief life, onto the next.

I’ve lived a life of just one day, and lived also a hundred years.

And love has held me many times, in repetitious followings;

and I have known her many times.

She has no memory, too,…hiding like me, and I wait for her to wake.

Dust collects around my feet, and blind and surely mad…I’ll think; I’ll wait.

And asked a different way, the same-old-question.

Why must I be reminded of it all?

I’m bored with it…

Cur faciem tuam abscondis homo occulted


Oil and acrylic on canvas. (Unfinished) 16 X 20 inches.

Veiled man.

Why…why do you hide?

This game you play, and in the end, the truth you cannot deny

And wake from dreams that tell you secrets of yourself…

and forget them quickly upon your rising.

And again in eager bound, you race to day’s end, and sleep the sleep, and dream again the answer.

What sin do you think you carry?

Have you already paid for it?

A thousand times a thousand?

Debt, will always be… debt.

They taught you well these August men…

You are known by all but yourself.

A piece of gold refusing to be precious.

And in so hiding…becomes your choice.

Occulted man.