oh! but what is the strange phenomena
pondering into the present
contemplating the triad of time,
the illusion, with a sense of rhyme
reason
space to trace the lines,
hands free to turn a thought under the light of mind
no, I am not special
no, I can’t be the only one
and so I came to realize,
to remember —
it is up to me to dream
and do beyond the morning light
embark upon the parallel track
following one rock to the next
while pushing a shopping cart
yes, folding laundry
correspondence and traffic
strategy and planning
though to see that space
treat that quality of consciousness
sacred,
it surely must but breathe
else like a storeroom,
packed with tools unused
the altar becomes another paperweight
down on your heart
trapping your inspiration —
to remember is to rebel against death
pondering into the present
contemplating the triad of time,
the illusion, with a sense of rhyme
reason
space to trace the lines,
hands free to turn a thought under the light of mind
no, I am not special
no, I can’t be the only one
and so I came to realize,
to remember —
it is up to me to dream
and do beyond the morning light
embark upon the parallel track
following one rock to the next
while pushing a shopping cart
yes, folding laundry
correspondence and traffic
strategy and planning
though to see that space
treat that quality of consciousness
sacred,
it surely must but breathe
else like a storeroom,
packed with tools unused
the altar becomes another paperweight
down on your heart
trapping your inspiration —
to remember is to rebel against death
0 Responses to 'poking through the thaw'