Listen for her voice. Obey the churchbell. Understand
where you dwell. Birds withstand weather. Lizards roam deserts. Elephants
search for water. I have come to worship. I have come for cleansing. Upon the
altar, I’ve gripped horns. I was baptized. I was given a name. They say the sun
will again reign. Many a blue scar—simplistic blocks—writing should be
interesting. Peregrines on high—through you we live, wings a meter by ambition.
I have lived in you, fretting friendship, humans are conglomerate emotions. To
commune may overwhelm, hardness of breath, kef seeming like torture—to understand
where it came, where it dwells, where it went. I might assert on reality. If to
make a claim. You might agree—share it with a spirit—and come to contend with
thoughts. Much of life is freedom, beauty, despite, redundancy—an absurd air, a
condition, as it links communities: the face in its mirror, looking familiar,
can’t quite grasp its song; a lake with ripples, a face moving, can’t quite
solidify its contour. Looking upon skies, seeking escape, if for a time, to
find motion, to have experience, to become mystic in horizon. By force into a kingdom, gates demolished,
to lay a flag, and announce holiness; a greater soul, magnificent glory, to
know elements, shift stars, praise interior—aside a nature, if it becomes, it
might destroy itself. I reread
reflection, some things change, others struggle, it becomes insecurity.
