I Miss the Certain Thing

I miss the certain thing

The unending to allegiance to a word

I miss waking in the morning, steps laid out

But temporary steps

And the sound, swelling

Of all the world before me

Rooms of houses, filled to the brim

With dying voices, tearing

Into one another with reckless uncertainty

I miss the yes being yes

The no being no

The maybe being no

The later being no

But the yes

Used to be yes

I miss the quiet morning

Swimming in oblivion

Feeling guilt of the last night’s transgressions

Knowing that redemption was out there

That someday I would find it

Before i realized the truth

That my hope is unwarranted

That I have myself condemned myself

To wanton uncertainty

Hopelessly faithful to my own demise

I miss the silence

To sit and see and sense

That broken I have come, and in darkness

To this place of noise and nonsense

Of death by distraction

And never ending screen time

My greatest aspiration

When the world was dragons and lightsabers

And I was a huddled mass of potential

I miss the infinite unknowing

A cloud that hovered overhead

When not knowing was sufficient

And hope was all I had

to hang my hat upon

Now, I am captive

To the world at my fingertips

To the whispers of deceit

That tell me I am all there is

This soiled world, small and shrinking

Is ever mine to appropriate

And I miss it, insignificance

Knowing beyond knowledge

Hoping beyond hope

That I am not the means nor ends

Nor medium nor method

Just a seed on a stone

Floating through the infinite cosmos