It becomes
those rosy petals with joy in seconds while skyglass is crawling. It becomes a
daughter lightning-quick those wits those wands or castles built by spyglass. Those
captivating mirrors or too young to sense nor was Love too gentle to smile. This
curious adventurous soul in fetters or breaking free while re-searching
deserted ceilings—those palms so delicate those ears such scrutiny as living
and dying those years seeming circular. Such talk about ghettoes or cultural
burdens while a Swan needs relief plus comfort; to exist in clenches or to sing
so invaded at this feeling associated with dichotomies: our inveterate melodies
our pantomime skies at something terrific but painful; if but to sense this
discernment if but to edify with grace as musical daughter such art; this round
of successes this mount so low while literary giants suffered depression—or this
complaisant malaise those winds so strong while our minds are having a bit of
difficulty; to desire speaking or to cherish dialogue where it must adjust in
order to live effective; those gifts some possess such kantele souls while
silent enough to capture a tacit whisper. Our daughter approaching another
passing where flowers are deliberate and sunshine is passive; those vague cedar-cries
those tales unsewn or years threaded into fulvous leaves—as depending on mercy
or a casual fact where many families exist in brokenness; our masks discarded
our iguanas internal plus our verbiage, chameleons. It was meteorites at guts
or rockets at brains while someone was dedicated to proving his worth: this
shady position forced to jump ropes while others are determined to measure humanness;
plus, this essence where souls act freely as purely in earnest while at liberty
to make mistakes. This web of caimans this uncouth radiation insofar as never a
thought to amoral behaviors; where parrots are barking and souls are outlined
while indiscretion is tucked neatly in those closets. If but to hear an
argument if but to listen to un-bias reasoning if but to assert that personalities,
albeit, difficultly, can be altered with diligence: in a world so damaged to
have a few perfected where professionals are failing while this mirage is
penetrated by keen observers. But creepers are making noises while dynasties
are tested against platinum therewith resilience is not just accepted: this
blanket alphabet those tailored eyes where a daughter might agree but something
is left unclear. Our restless hewing our cold coffee with cakes or directness
where answers must necessitate action; those blue foxes those holes in gardens
or those redherrings where something pertinent is curtailed. But Love is
mesmerization or concentrated reality such diamond meditation as becoming one
with universal citta.
It drives
home as adult entities living in something unfriendly while surrounding ourselves
with something that may not challenge us. Or dealing with essence becoming a
bit jaded or so for survival that we tolerate shifting ideals. This inrush of
emotions this bridge unlatching or this linchpin needing some tinkering. Our indelible
frustrations our caged ambitions while learning to outsoar ceiling fences. So many
spells if but to fly while absorbed in sunlit chants; our beating whispers our
pure fury as chaos consumes but then releases.
In deserts
this trail of seeds those blossoms so secure while seemingly contrary to breath.
Voltage reverberates while a heart speaks to Ananda as durable electric
seers: this vest by solidarity if but to silence where realism might devastate
something fabricated. Our intuition lives that pose that eye this effacement of
avidya; if but to harmonize with reflection if but to sound out Aum in
situations so veiled but obvious. Our days chasing golden crystals or believing
in something too fantastical where some argue for pure energy.
