Finding Land

Like light leaving the room;
Leaves from their branches,
Departing without departure.
Wordlessly and lacking compassion,
Dissipating; dispersing,
To return in sporadic fashion.
As in bursts and perpendicularity,
Ever the more confusing to existence.
Like streams and swirled eddies
Intermeshing dynamically.
So, too, does the spirit leave the center
Ringed and shackled
To this bitter, facetious memory.
Falling across the grassy hillock,
Freshly trimmed
Like polished glass.
No friction, no counterweight.
Only paper and silicon
To pull mind to future.
To the apathetic condition.
Embracing comfort in logic,
In reason of the artificial.
Fighting like arguing
With your favorite friend.

.smw. [06.29.2003]

Comments

[guile]

it's beautiful..