Encounters of this kind
seem to arise
when our eyes
understand
a hearts plan,
what it demands.
When it tries to find
the illustrious light,
warm as is bright,
not yet experienced first hand.
So until then
my time is spent
rooted against the tide,
Trying to grab the line,

Heaven sent;

Are all these things,
so don't get bent
out of shape
when your baggage's declared
Overweight.
These holes can be filled
With God, violence, or magic pills.
Heaven sent,
Till the fateful day when we
Ascend.

I've never known a more subtle
Base.
Where thrills were chased
through foggy winter  Rain.

Our love, Sparked Dawson's rage.
His ire brewed in Winnebago,
Dark.
As were the night at
Ash Place Park.
Our secret stored
in one neon
Marker;
Waved under the noses
Of those who were
Sharper.

My mind wanders as I begin to understand some of life's mysteries...

To achieve my mind should be focused and in key,
yet I cannot break from
the hazy memories.  

For my mind's eye is red
from the steam in my head.
With my time,
all my dimes
have been wastefully shed.
I was baited,
elated.
I've been ever so faded.
I've meditated
with the sedated.
vigor decayed
spending time with the jaded.
eventually gravitated
to the ignorant,
Yet underrated;
for blissfully elevated.

Is this why wisdom is so hated?