Monday, August 28, 2017

KINDERGARTEN AT THE HINTERGARTEN

ALL CAPS?! MERCY ME... let's take this down a peg.
Cleansing breath ... like a yoga mantra for the young
and indoctrinated. A maat, a mat, like a door mat or a
church mouse... little, scared, and willing to snatch crumbs
for sport and sustenance. A small life... getting by. Waiting for
the sleep where there is permission to dream, as a renegade.

Here we are, needs an escape hatch for the truth is too great
a burden to bear, sayeth the march of a crazy hare. So a tea
party was in order, eh? lip service and a milk mustache, life is hard
 so get a helmut... so the germans would have you believe.

Why can I quote TV and ad jingles better than hissstory. Who's story?

I heard the news of horror, but child heart of mine saw the bovine
quietly walking through the floods to higher ground. So silent, so
beautiful. Is there really any words that can make a horror right?

A silent walk of intuition to seek higher ground from the rising danger of flood waters needs no words. A beautiful testament that a child's heart
can fully understand. I bow to the bovine, in the back garden. Keep
moving forward... or drown in the pasture.

A lesson to stake what could not be herd or cowed. Mu knows water.










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