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