The Two Cliffs

The heart is a bitter bulb
Bearing brackish, barbed blossoms
Kneaded, knotted roots and gnarled shoots
The heart is a boorish beast
Blunt, budging, beating,
Beating away time
Filling my faltering blood with fear
Fear; oh, foul fields of fear
That stretch trillions of treacherous miles,
Ending abruptly at the colossal cliffs of "yes" and "no".

Here I stand,
Facing this field
Shoots and stalks of bitter bulbs
Brimming with beasts, bellowing over the pounding of me
I could have crossed my foot
Clawing towards time as it pounded past
Making a break for the shade of certainty

But I, I chose the river
The long and languorous serpent,
Slithering away toward the endless black sea.
A dilapidated boat upon this wistful river,
I float beside the shores of fear
And in the water's gentle rocking, my harried heart grows quiet.
The banks edge closer
And the trees rise in tightly, in the dimming twilight
In this pulsing silence, I hear your voice, my dear--

[Greg: Hey Wirt! What are you doing?]
[Wirt: Greg! Get out of here!]
[Greg: I'm sorry, Wirt! I said I'm sorry!]

[Whispering]
I hear your voice, my dear
Your voice whispers through the leeds, like a summer breeze
And my heart, though fettered in the tangled fields of fear,
Now whispers back
A hushed harmony of lilting leaves, and rippling reeds.

Please, my dear
Though I long alone your fearsome fringes,
Send me some light
A moon, a guide
That I may steal myself from the clumsy cockle's gashing,
Obscured along the riverside

If by chance I reach the sea
And drift not off course or capsize
By cruel decree of an indifferent wind,
If my foolhardy voyage brings me nigh,
The two towering cliffs with faith beside
Thy violent sea of tranquil cove,
Which song the wind shall sing of love
That dove borne "yes", or "no"
Of shattered boats, and requiems
Oh please my dear
If you see me there,
Tossing, turning, down below,
Give me your hand, or at least cast an eye
That I might see just one last time, your merciful gaze
Before I'm dashed to rubble, and swept away.