Snakes & Ladders - Imminence

In this race there’s no keeping pace

Bare foot under naked skies

Masks unveil and so does clouds

Remark, sun stands high

The price of pursuit will cost your feet

Close enough isn’t closing in

Close enough isn’t closing in

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever climb high enough

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever run fast enough

Point a finger down righteousness' path

They will follow you and lift you up

You shall never walk again

Exposure lies in the eye of the beholder

Exposure lies in the eye of the beholder

We see what we’re presented with

But are you willing to look a little further?

Close enough isn’t closing in

Close enough isn’t closing in

Close enough isn’t closing in

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever climb high enough

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever run fast enough

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever climb high enough

Close enough isn’t closing in

You won’t ever run fast enough

Close enough isn’t closing in

We’re closing in, we’re climbing higher and higher

Close enough isn’t closing in

We’re closing in, we’re running faster and faster

Close enough isn’t closing in

We’re closing in, we’re climbing higher and higher

Close enough isn’t closing in

We’re closing in, we’re running faster and faster

Confine these treacherous undoings.

We choose what we’re given.

And I live,

so I’ll live in these brief unmeasurable intervals called moments.

But the only thing I get to keep are the sticks and stones.

Just like memories,

these will break and crumble in to scraps and splinters in the palms of my

hands.

When the hourglass has been crushed I am just a man pouring my own sand

in the pools I created.

So I look up, staring wide then sealing my eye lids

tight, crossing fingers over hands hearing myself screaming to this man on the

moon.

It’s too loud, can he even hear my cries?

I dream of spinning wheels

marking the late canopies when they should drive me home.

Don’t fly away again

little mocking bird, you should sing for me.

It’s been so long since I heard

the melody of a thousand running springs.

Now the reminiscence just reminds me

of myself.

Why would I need to tell myself about how I never learned to fly

with my own arms, and how can anyone cloud state even listen if I couldn’t.

My feet are soar from all this dancing with an axe in my arm, it never tasted

wood and I can never really build a ladder tall enough.

I can climb these walls

around me and I can outrun my past but only for so long, until there are no

winds to catch the sails that I’ve sown and my lungs have dried out from all

the anger I’ve burnt.

I’ll be staring wide at the velvet canopy,

then closing my eyes, crossing fingers over hands hearing myself whispering

words of hope and humility to a wind that I believe will carry my prayers to

one who listens