Of Underlying Grace

I.

In minds of rogues and songs of sorrow lies conflict in the eyes of the forgotten.

Wanting, knowing,
Feeling, experiencing everything-
but nothing-
disintegrating into the frivolity of the air.

Oh the cruelty of duality!

Elation caught the child with whirling dreams of triumph and valor,
waiting for the opportunities of chances lingering in the daylight.

Yet mirroring the love of a bitter day's quarrel,
in the same vain strings of contradiction.

With artifice lying in meager spaces,
adding and adding to the conforming pantheon of greater lust.

II.

"I know the hearts of men in their bleakest hour"
proclaimed the firebrand,
the pedestrian caught in the aromas of the morning dew.

It was an oppression, a tyranny found within the depth and breadth of this soul.

Delving into this subconscious and soon our own.

Preaching anthems of a sensational despot.

A despot driven by a passion for fervent inequality.

III.

Ambiguity is the journey!

Knowing Not knowing Anything.

Only the possibilities of the impossibility.

IV.

"This is what I know what I feel and who I am.
Yet with my flaws I implore for your humble contrition"
proclaimed the prodigy,
aware of this mediocrity.

Ambition becomes delusion-
Motivation becomes obsolete-
and vitality becomes a mere afterthought . . .

Just concepts in the waters,
flowing into a cryptic lethe of sapphire.

V.

Wait.
There it is.
This was everything in the horizons of this sweet reverie.

The shimmering crane bird, with its massive presence,
wallowing in the ponds with the effervescent water lilies.

Living. Just living.
With contentment in this soul,
residing in this imperfect creation.

Blossoming,
Growing,
Becoming,
Transforming,
Being.
Just being.

Victorious in that belief,
in that final moment of understanding.

The child continues to live with that hope, while the earth within quakes . . .