POEM: SCRIPTED CHAOS

Covered in spirit
Or skin

As you drop the hammer
Into nails making an example of
What you hate

Buried within hatred
Is the pure breath
Of oxygen’s author

You can’t see
What is within you
Until you ponder

With all the weight
Your mind can offer

Until all else but pain
Remains and you
Trace the shape of the scar

Even in an unloving act
Is an echoing cavern
Reminding you
There is another place

Where love could melt
Nails into bells
(Unite stones into wells)
Singing into depths

Defined as

Reality

Reality?

Is it really everything
We can touch
Taste smell or see?

What part of us
Senses when we are in bad
Company?

Or working in a stifled place?

What part of us pulls us
(Who we were are and will be)

To the mountains
To the ocean

So the powers surround
The length of our reach?

What part of us misses
The songs we dismissed
When they first kissed our ears

Then nibbled
Until we pushed them away
When our beloved boundaries eroded

But now...
That part of us melts
When anything a score away
(Faint smells, sights, sounds, sayings)
Floats back to us

(Again with the melting!)

But with time comes a hardening
An inflexibility growing over our minds

As something otherworldly
Beckons us to return
And be molten and fluid

Art is mine and digitally yours at https://edition.al/10718