Doing anything, late in life, is for the moment.
No duty remains, all shirked, all left undone, long
ago passed down to the next hero's attempt.
Daily reminders from old mail lists, so and so died.
Yeah. So she did, so shall we all. I understand.
Each of us has a while, as each star has a while,
burning out from self's centermost being, shining
distant, single star, single mote lit for my looking,
first star wish, wished, and wished, and wished,
in vain,
at Venus.
-------------------
With myself, alone, listening,
hearing a human ****** interpret a novel,
a told tale of plottable inter-essential new
points of views, from within the author's mind,
seen and said, seen. Look
see the worth of such words, an authority
describing the scene, bringing life from words.
Telling thought shared as if,
if itself, the if in all we must imagine, saying
this is plenty, genug enough, this in us state,
as an awesome thing of many minds, elohimish,
in this atmosphere we breathe in harmony,
as each breath extends the reach of each word…
wouldn't we willingly want wishing work, word
work, daily dues to pay, waking, wishing, will
would
you join the dance?
Did you laugh? Life is all game.
----------------
Slow knowing, seeing guns,
thinking game plotted paths,
rewarding reality with possibilities,
triumphant miniature thrill of victory…
essence of history, we won, we won, we won.
And then, the new formed governing mind,
the officially united, naturally selfish mind
representing those whose national will,
continues to revere the pioneer, pawn
queened, by no more noble cause than,
following the rules used to progress,
across the board, each step a stage
in the game, scaled to seem relatable
to royal rules uses made of lower worth
pieces in the arsenal of this one, black,
against that one, white…
clearly… contrasting points at the edge
of the grayscale, light's own, none to all,
whoa,
look, in broad day light, light
alone, lacks any gray but
in reflection, none
from our sun.
----------------------
Some axiom from our Hallmarked past,
tells us to hang in there… hold the line,
only find time to filter for wisdom, enough
to imagine making up a mind from nothing,
Helen Keller had touch, imagine a spirit's mind,
intangible,
made up
from mere words as metaphors, holding
thoughts, thoughts called feelings, but not,
thoughts, states of patient grace, thoughts, if
we both think, between each letter, those thoughts
in the realm between us, in the medium of thoughts…
no eyes or ears or fingers, even so, imagine
knowing all the time redeemed for now,
is being used to make us useful, hmmm,
as om, oh my, ahh-ooom, mmmhmmm, soon….
Makes no difference,
we think as if difference is essential,
day by day, difference referring to load,
how worth thinking is a line of reason?
-----------
Behold the happy thought,
hooking hope where no hope was imagined.
What harm? None done, none intended,
none available for take away.
Seemed tuned to some either-real reason for continuing...
