The butterfly and the swan, our
most blessed creatures; for in
natural painful transformation of
crawler to beautiful freedom, of
ugly homeliness to majestic beauty;
what is natural becomes possible and
what is possible becomes hopeful

Upon stormy waters he walked;
but only still waters draw us near
with melancholy determination;
hearing that voice within, but
does it direct you to throw stones
for ripples that soothe or to break
apart the reflective image of what
you cannot understand?

We are anesthetized; for reality
is no basis for happiness and
delusion fuels pretension to be
what we are not; and so we applaud,
loudly, for strangers who wear our
colors; because what they do is
our greatness; but do we cheer
for them or ourselves?

To those who sacrifice, it is a
constant; to those who do not,
it is a moment; but we live with
our fears no matter who dies
for them; fear because of our
children; fear because of war;
fear because of pride; fear
because of ignorance

What was once a child’s kingdom,
narcissism versus intellect, is how
adults now separate themselves;
the victory of a beautiful face over
character is complete; mannequins
who cannot speak enable those
without conscience to ignore the
consciousness of their soul

Silent love, quiet discomfort,
one human becoming God, for
their blessing is salvation on earth;
but blessings are relative; relative
to where we were born and who
loved us as children; we begin without
the knowing of favor; what we learn
of ourselves is where we begin again

Art is not competition but expression
reveals life; revelation of consciousness;
our heroes must only make us feel; we
ignore their flaws but does that prove
we are forgiving or only want vicarious
pleasure no matter the cost or the
rationalization of the conditions of victory?

The fisher of men’s souls spoke to all
men; for it was written from a mount; but
what do we embrace? War or peace?
Riches or charity? Arrogance or humility?
When ripples reach the far shore what is left
is the question that wet living glass asks
about what we see and what we believe;
because calm reflection is the only storm
we can survive