A Man is Quite Simple

A man is quite simple,
although battling complexity
as it collides with masculinity,
like a well made bed
appearing, well you know...
together

Like a trumpeter, puckered,
who is compelled to blow into thin air
and a sound, complex in nature, eventually resonates
attempting to reach a note so high and pure
in hopes of turning a head or two
only to find the crowd a bit displeased,
yet convinced in complexity's own head...
he nailed it

Simplicity is much less the exhibitor -
longing to love,
yet even more so to be loved,
smiling while trying,
deeply believing,
the effort is worth the while
to turn not one head,
but just one heart his way

An out of tune one stringed instrument
is a man in trouble though,
stretched beyond reach of harmony, beauty
in sight nor sound,
clever, never
is a man so simple, yet profound

Crowded hallways
are full of such simplicity, and yes, irony
where men work willfully
to make something of themselves and others
to find their laborious motion
has indubitably left them, and love,
unfounded...
merely breathing,
surviving,
one foot after the other,
placed honestly and firmly
on the good earth provided

"Wake me,"
says the man while removing
yesterday's mask,
unveiling a fear of a future,
or the lack thereof,
battling paralyzing uncertainty

Will love ever see the real beauty
in such a simple authenticity?
Where past, present and future
is lost in a much stronger honesty,
in the arms of  long awaited safety.

When will love lean heavily,
securely,
happily,
on these broad shoulders of simplicity?


~2012 Vaughn Wood