Thursday, June 15, 2017

The sylvan man grows in light


After watching what you say
In the way
of change
concentration
cures
our severed taste buds and
need for salvation is mis-
taken for thirst of knowledge.

Flavorless is so often
Distasteful.

With the impressions all-ready made,
castes cracks to make like-ness, best selves,
come rise to the occasion or surface,
holding up the sky for the stragglers,
last ones out-
So beauty is the last thing any-body sees.

Rather-build an experience stacking up
of extrapolated theories, compacted clumps,
we build like dutiful doozers
busy before the Fraggle ruins it all
over again.

A variation of pattern provides for knots,
gathering spaces and pulls punches with curves
unfit for naked kings.

There can be all or nothing
theoretically and answer is not the source,
it is a question of directed desire, of
questions and may-bes.

Fear and famine are inadequate seeds
of inspiration for a fish to continue to grow on
and on immersed in its own currents.

The air is different amidst change and chaos,
at the same time, it was always happening,
never staying the same-
except the way you speak

of change.  
I accept the way change 
speaks of you.





Artwork by Jusepe de Ribera [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

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