The Backseat by Darren Miller
Callused hands carefully caress the crevice,
Searching for the belt buckle
Amidst conflicting feelings of sorrow
And joy, and anger and love.
Berating and blaspheming brothers
Joke and push and shove,
Surreptitiously deceiving the saddened
And surrendering soul slouched in the backseat.
He joins in making fun of himself,
Trying in any way to be accepted, connected
To the outside world,
Ready to give a mile,
If he could but gain an inch,
When he stopped a while and listened.
Jubilee, rejoicing, laughter.
Then he raised his eyes.
Tears teemed triumphantly from the skies,
Reigning and looming over the world.
Suddenly he was silently stuck
Behind his group on the sidewalk,
Only wide enough for three,
Then at home alone after his friends
Decided to break free and leave without him.
But he understood, so what good
Would it do to hold a grudge?
Sense of self, empathy,
Happiness, hope, patience,
All gained by trying but failing to express
The extent of his caring nature,
Briefly captured by “unconditional”
Misunderstood but understanding,
Created not for demanding but for giving
He’s still in the backseat,
Looking out the window
At the footsteps below.
He’s not alone, and his time
Is just beginning. Watch him go.
The Way of Life by Darren Miller
The power of the rainbow
Lies not in the science of how it works,
But in its ravishing extravagance
Exhibited by its brilliant, luminous rays,
Not to be prohibited
By the finite day of man.
But rather savor;
Soak in its presence, its effervescence,
And accept its evanescence.
Because its brilliance abounds
By breaking, bit by bit,
The human façade that is life.
Even the night is subject to such light,
A colorful halo about its white marble’s gait,
Eliminating the plight associated with night.
But you mustn’t wait for the gate
To open the Way to life.
It has been gaping, open wide,
Painting its hope in the skies,
Hope that we don’t taint ourselves
With the falsehoods from Hell.
We cannot contain it,
Nor can we explain it.
We can simply gain
Its message of eternity,
Engrained in its infinity of humility.
And so we must go,
For the sake of our posterity,
Into its horizons of propriety,
Seeking the Truth which we know.