A poem by Eric McCool, written sometime around 2004
In my lungs is my laughter, in the clouds are my tears. In these words is my meaning, but they soon disappear
All around me are vibrations that my ears turn to sound. In my pockets are pieces of the puzzles I’ve found
In my head is the picture they form, put together. My eyes are the forecast of my heart’s fickle weather
If I came out of nowhere, then whence am I bound? My eyes on the heavens, my feet on the ground
My hands long to touch the softness of skin, but for every woman they grasp, they end up empty again
Asleep then awake, in love then alone. A flower that’s blossomed, a child that’s grown
Something is stirring, my hairs stand on end. Movements are measured, but measurements bend
Mystery permeates the fabric of being, magic explains all the things that I’m seeing
My life is all memories, except for right now. The past is my promise, the future my vow
