And Sow It Is

And sow it is we weep, we sleep,
a lifetime now in a reverie, a memory.
A love that touched the face of God
and fearful retreat, a playground lost
that was neither you nor me.

Profound at best, as we proffered be.

What is here and now in authenticity.
A comfort hug, a shimmering start
a time to grieve what once was my heart.

Brave and bold with chains and saws
we cut down the meadows to which we
gave pause. A frolicking sojourn, a
flickering sigh... we went in sincerity
of numerous lies.

We cannot know another according to plan,
we cannot help each other, but we do as
we can. We are simply fragments of
some divine plan.

How sad... we are creatures of sand.

One teardrop that splashes upon the face,
that thought it reveled in time and space.

Right now in this moment there is egg on my face.

Troubles

There're bubbles in the cauldron,
though I can barely see
the lava from volcanos
flow freely from the seed
of pomegranate withering-
it's still a part of me.

Tornados in the heartland,
that are beating to a farce
of fearsome flags and stagnant
dogma... time to clean the house.

The coasts are riding high on waves
of advertised religion,
can they surf on hurricanes
when a dove is just a pigeon?

Dry and arid raises fires,
water-boarding bears the floods-
anger feeds a crack of lightening
healing comes from dirt turned mud.

Once upon... I had an eye
I followed the modern medicine man
and lo! and behold... it calcified.

If I stagger here and cower there
the powers that be are the cross I bear.
Apathy put them to their place
as I ate my crumbs and asked for grace.

The Mother is patient, the Mother is kind
the children of privilege are provoking
and bullying and sneering...
it is time
for a big swift kick
in their irreverent behind.