the
day will dawn. beauty will ensue. possums will hide.
most
elegant survivors—most aggravated souls, tender weather. if given peace, would
it keep, most serene yogi?
an
intolerant spirit, most rigid spirit, we ponder his calmness.
the
mind is bark, metallic, crystals.
many
dimensions, a labyrinth, shrubberies untrimmed; to grow wildly, untamed
branches, like clichéd examples.
most
beloved essence, opalescent heartbeats, the mind is a drumkit.
into
isolation, deeper into interior, pausing for seconds at a mirror; most
terrified, most steeped in mire, buffing frantically.
by
a supported ego, dealing in reality, how mature can it become?
by
a superego, dealing in management, such desire for liberty!
the
day will dawn. beauty will ensue. raccoons will wrestle.
the
narrative is untold, unwritten, alive as fragments; a story is brewing, about
growth, pains, perseverance—about radiance, numen, awesomeness—about wins,
loses, sacrifices.
many
allegories become scripture.
many
fables appear unfounded.
should
a poem have a premise? make a claim? impart wisdom?
it
depends on grace, timing, humor; temperament, bias, onus.
in
personal responsibility—a soul gravitates—it learns to love.
