He see things.
The undefined elements
we're immune to during the opera,
and he unearths them with his Westminster,
all of those peculiar things he learned in
ancient times that make us better than
we already are as we push past without noticing,
risking everything like an ******
all plush on the threshold of
new doors we can't accept to face,
like bearded wolves gambling
at any cost trying to steal our
chandelier so he might show us
a lighthouse of hope against our reef of fear.

Written by Sara Fielder © Oct 2016