In between the limbs of now and then,
I limbo according to the pre-calculated hinges that secure
my suspension in empty space;
I walk on the bridge of troubled winds- colliding with
the storms of eager anger, pushing my glide into turbulent
maneuvers just to keep my head afloat;
But I tumble down past the secular catastrophe
into mounds of consistent contortion,
where I see things in picasso's angles,
Twisted and portruding into an unrecognizable soothing
act of strange,
I am here endowed with long braids of intricate vision,
crackling as my footsteps tread fire in my haste to catch the other end
of what I've weaved,
I am a circular apphiphany but still a line who can't retrieve it's beginning, always chasing the vacant streams of thought
unknowing the answer is where I once brought myself to see;
Now I overlook the bareen stumps that were once ample trees in my forest,
Now the fruits lay rotten, browned by a scorching sun and foul air,
the flies suckle on my neglected landscape,
and I suffer beneath their constant nibbling at what I have to offer;
I am old with the rancid stench of disamusement;
confused in the parallels of existence inside my head--
I was once dead in my plights of new birth,
Now, I haven't even reached for my spirit or nurtured it with song;
I've let it succomb to the meaningless works of human hands--
God has eluded me because I've closed my eyes and walked with the wicked--
but today faith brushed against my cheek....
and I was reminded...
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