(2017)

Silently, I leaped beyond
And just the dull raccoon,
Who stole the kernel as it played
In garden, yet was gone.

'T was the latter sunlight,
'T was the man today,
That when the bashful voice came in
The creature escaped away.

A thunder in a crack of the ceiling
A shift of lifts
A slit of drifts
A lightening in the blanket of the cloud

A ghost in an alley of the monument
A walk of talks
A well of balks
A shadow in the groovy path of an ago

A cupid stuck and struck by a serpentine
A tale of the past
A pale hue of trust
An arrow aimed at the kernel of the nut

It doesn't matter how so plain
Or rough the crust may be,
The kernel is what truly counts --
The part we cannot see.

A piece of land perceived as good
And ripe for human toil
May yet prove unproductive
Without the proper soil.

Can we appraise the saber
While still within its sheath,
Or comprehend the ocean
Unless we look beneath?

Sights we often fail to see
And thoughtlessly pass by
May be those that satisfy
The palate, not the eye.