It sets itself idly under my feet
It sits and waits
It waits to feel
to be felt
to be rubbed in or out of some
conspicuous circle.
It dances after its release
and the world becomes restless and bleeds large
unwanted tears upon the driest
fields of compassion.
There is movement
in the dark
and the giant spears of wakefulness
haunt us all: we the restless.
and the venom from the past
seeks to poison us all out
of our hearts
with filthy weapons of injustice.
The violins play
a violent, disturbing tune
in the backdrop of a spiritual
world with no exit.
The intensity flares
and the wounds open wider
than ever.
The running stops
the water changes colors
and motivation speaks
to those who are dying
beneath the pressure of existence.
Who wants to imagine more days
like this one?
Who wants to wish for a black
playground
and a world with two faces...
sleep and action.
The look in the sky says it all.
We are too small to wish.