Wishes wistfully swaying, swinging
Like children, cheering, cacophony
Like elders looking down on us, enticing
Waiting for when we least expect anything
Then lurching from the darkness to restore:
Like a check in the mail, a lost friend checking in
Or anything good that happens time and time again
A positive swirl in the (sometimes) otherwise bleak world
A fresh perspective, an excitability for life
A vacation, a good dream
Happiness, blatantly
Seas of sorrow
ebb and flow
putrid stench of
Hatred
Yet we believe…
Somehow a sad face
realer than a happy one?
Happiness, a farce;
an illusion of the mind?
Cultured to be subdued
disengaged or eschew?
Yet we see panhandlers
abroad, viscerally sad,
broken
believed to be fakes
cheaters of the system
standing on the median
broken
– n.v.
sleepwalking in suburbia
contemplating crickets
the perfect pitches
of finches in finicky
reaches of the rural
- n.v.
If passing involves Heaven or naught,
remember what you’ll bring with you and what not:
For a memory of walking in between leaves
hearing crinkling, enraptured in the trees
leaves a memory of careless loveliness
carefully stepping, enjoying the crickets
and other worldly beings.
Making being
a worldly being
restfully carefree
just you and me
without ever needing
other materialism.
Just you, and I, and our sun hats
draping over our faces
wasting our days away
wistfully swaying as the sun sets
and entrances us with blessed
views
Only allotted in this tiny plot of land
with your hand
in my hand
- n.v.
into the depth of this drink?
it is a challenge: to think
with hidden truths, if you sink
- n.v.
indeterminate
intricate interactive
individuals
- n.v.
scintillating snow:
soft, silent, smooth, sated sheets,
cold, calm comforter
- n.v.
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