Chi-Minded

Such pomp and passion pain and grace; and such rhythm, peril,

beauty, and scars. What place this love—this chant—this ever

a land of lotus dreams? for never a mind such flame, an arrow

digging midnight hearts, where darkness is such attraction.

Such is chi, to pervade a room, a circle of slanted brains, and

semi-manic waves. We see, float, and muse, quasi-religious,

weaving psyches and jotting notes. What is this passion:

science misunderstood, mystic and mischief? We sit, moving 

through portals, ever to search, and ever to experience. It’s

a muffled chuckle; a locking of eyes; or an unsolicited smile.

Such pomp and passion pain and grace; where ponds are words;

and trees are verbs; and every branch, a midnight segue. So feel,

fly, and fret; and such exposure, an altered soul; and such

attraction, an endless music; ever to increase in tempo.