Tuesday, March 10, 2015

So Simple Even a Child...

Amid the Indistinct,
the Jingle, the Jangle, the Roar,
if you try to pay attention
to the smallest of things,
the shuffling, not the scuffling
for this has long become the the True
Walking Dead, the Daily Chore
the Daily Bread
but surely then,
there must be more;
catching your headlights
and for a moment your Anger swirls
as they emerge from under tunnels
and within recessed doorways,
out of the wind,
the Underground Underground,
the lowest place you can go,
No Where Else...

Battle-worn and yet bed weary,
too long four walls,
becoming hesitant and leery.
not long before
the Spirit must roam,
back to Wood
that has long been
keeping to Water,
by Forest's edge,
hoping to catch the Magic Sip,
the Draught that Heals,
Revealing what we already know,
but, refuse,
as is our childish manner,
to Believe in the Simplicity
of the Answer...
 Feb 6, 2015
 
 

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