Okok
Softly I rise.
Begrudgingly I walk,
falter,
stumble,
laugh.
But I cannot fault you,
nor will I feed you praise.
Trapped in a time,
weighted of it's own dictates.
Your presence here is not needed.
Suddenly I realize a richly tethered taste -
Metallic and soft, it had been there the whole time -
That all my movements do simultaneously
support and dislodge this tepid earth.
That without them sea would tumble deep into mountain.
That together, I alone collide love and hate.
It is in this new water,
entwined 'mongst impatient land,
that I must find you.
Fret shall taint you.
Shun it's willowed and leathered crown.
For I will not know you.
Drop it's jewels like pennies.
Shatter it's dreams,
for they are nothing.
They trick your eyes,
tatter and fade drappings of fine cloth
'pon those around you.
Set dreamings to flame,
Hell to high water.
With your hand and your hand and your hand,
till the days are long and sleepy.
Nights, they tinkle with a soft and supple air.
These are your new Loves.
Know them well.
They will serve you longer than all empty holes combined.
Do not be fooled by fires cold.
They lie and scale the feet.
Hold close this adage of the ancients,
"Never scale the feet and trust not the heart.
Follow the hands and grant trust their mighty vision."
