Alike to the tempo, such deeper feelings, listening to
sky sins.
To indict the Father, sweet blasphemy!
Rain poured all night. We heard thunder. A mouse
appeared. It trembled.
By tacit ritual, bathing anxiety, rinsing a third
time.
Make it biblic, a goodly truth, make it part slanted,
a goodly issue.
A Red Sea parted, a cactus cistern, a feeling made
natural.
I’m
amazed by what we call normal.
I’ll
leave that to another poet.
With eyes opened—to fear great disappointment—with many
saying: Concentrate on the riches.
Yes. Totally
understood.
Something
bothers, it pokes, it nudges, it claws at you: stars, cosmos, collective fires,
dialogue between self & consciousness; something to seeing spirit,
something needed in a dry county, something churchlike, esoteric, a need for
ethics & morals & spirituality.
Yes.
Totally understood.
Something
hungers, if by satisfaction, if by another pleat, something gluing it all
together.
A
lonely soul is a seeking soul.
Most were trending a spiritual wave & became
enthralled by nuance, by intention, by song, by walking further into humanity.
Indeed.
Rain poured all night.
