One could wax romantic
Shrouded in the ethereal embrace
Of the descending mists
For a moment
Safe from
Any pressing threat
From an unseen world
Warm
Held in
A blanketed cocoon
Preparing for a stunning
Metamorphosis
But what if
The prevailing feelings
Were
Restless, irritable and discontent
The "shroud"
Might then occur
To be
The confines of
An asphyxiation inducing
Snow globe
That defies
The light of day
Creativity offers
A vast palette
With which worlds
Are erected
Lives resurrected
Heroes emerge victorious
Against all odds
Dreams are seeded
While the means
Are conceived
For their realization
That same energy
Can be given
A perverse twist
In an attempt
To create
A "silk purse"
From "a sow's ear"
No good
Can be realized
From this deception
So
In a fog
IS IN THE FOG....
The ensuing frustration
Unable to see
The next step
Never mind the horizon
Incites deep seated rage
I could embrace
The Mystery
But I want
A Damn answer
I could
Say a dozen Hail Mary's
In a sweat lodge
Either
of which
I revere deeply
However
Now I honour
The rant
My soul
Can no longer
Contain concern
For the sensibilities
Of repression
Yours or mine
This to shall pass...
Great... When?
Just go with the flow...
I am
And what is flowing
Is
What the fuck
Is going on?
That needs to be said...
Yeah.
Dark in the hallways.
Another door will open.
Bloody lovely.
Right Now.
While I stand here.
Nobody
Can tell me
I'm wrong
When I say
Today
Now (how's that for being "in the moment")
It's not
Working for me!!
I suppose
Where would be
Faith?
If the road ahead
Was straight & clear.
At times.
The moving of mountains,
Is so indiscernible.
That claims,
Of mustard seed size quantities,
or truck loads,
Of Faith.
Seem dubious.
All well to,
Not hide my light,
Under a bushel.
My path.
Teaches.
It's of no heavenly (or earthly) good,
To hide it,
Under bullshit either.
Haven't heard that scripture?
I'm back.
Exercising my,
Creativity.
R. O'Neill (July 14, 2017)
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