The unsung songs that hover on the edge of thought
Falter and then are lost in tumultuous seas
As we leave the comforting harbour of our youth
And with it recordings of a memory’s unease.

All conditions working through each mental stage
Serve to confirm us to the safety of the ship
Where we stay cocooned waiting, resistant to change,
Losing aspired unity, in fears awesome grip.

Clasped around by conceptions that wax and wane,
And these, about a cognitive common thread,
lead us away from the search for the unsung songs
To an agnate other self and liberation’s dread –

Flinching from that illusory sense of freedom
Which though may seem rhetorical, is merely mime,
Establishing between the senses and the mind
A check against the enigmatic tide of time.

Our fate, to spend a lifetime locked in bondage
To a vision that heeds not neither rights nor wrongs,
Stands trembling on the edge, pushing beyond the range,
To try but never to capture those unsung songs.

November 1993