THERE I have become a vanquished angel by
awakened eyes so dull by milky shade:
the moon gone before her majesty of Sun
and now morning bright! As ponderous
voices in hallways of books by lined
insecurities: the geese with stiff
necks and her baby followers: we
are everything we see and have been.
Sometimes by the back of wishes
and the promises of forward future:
we can become the better of ourselves
if only we forgive the many who know
us. And we sing like the gawling of cows.
THAT is every this and we cry completely
when we are collectively true: but
little children refrain and ghosts too.
The printed word is more secure
than the act of organic thought.
But love: of no equation
nor of linear true.
And consciousness as a jaguar
touching leaves and puma speeding
through branches of truth.
WE are the journey
WE are the love
WE are the Life
and we are the living.
:: 09-13-2017 ::
