I long for the cry of a lyric in simplicity, profound, catching
my throat unexpectedly, knowing with immediacy
the feel of real honesty. Perfunctory has no mind space,
straight as a die, absent of side-lines that trip you up,

take you off balance into a whirl of wondering, when
meaning is lost in translation to the untrained eye.
Solidarity has no invitation to understand, we cannot share
freely, the highbrow world punctures their interest, the pages

gummed…..no longer turn; this high minded plethora stunts us.
Hangs off shoulders like last year’s fashion, trailing the
ground, grabbing misunderstandings so deep that it is lost to
those who are crying out for peace of mind, souls who are in

need of plain and simple food with true meaning.  Wanting
with all their might to be drawn in. Speak to them, straight tongues
without forks jammed beneath pallets, plumbs released from
mechanical jaws blocking breath to breathe and sighs to form,

not from boredom, but knee deep in wonder; at last offering
a tear, a depth, identifying with amusement, laughter. It could be
felt, this sense of clarity, like a mountain stream washed clean over
time.  Find them, find a way to burrow in to meet eyes asking for more