Reach

When i was real
short, I waited
for the world
to begin.
Many things had yet
to become
opinionated and turned
out. And in
my naivety, I counted
on truth
to be revealed-
joined by revolutions
of excitement,
and an optimist's
grin of infancy
upon a smooth face-
marked by a set
of teeth unstained by
liquids that jitter,
solids that grind,
and gases that relax.

Undiscovered countries
came into view within
the glass of a
telescope swapped for a
kaleidoscope swapped for a
microscope. And
continents of thought
sometimes became
inhibiting or
disheartening or
perplexing or
stressful or
harsh.

But I wondered upon
generalization revelations
and on music-
like the Voice of God-
to quiet the anxious
noise of man
while i slept
thoughtfully
and constructed
an identity comprised of
dreamy distortions and of
hopeful high-hats
and representative of
life-encouraging
musical genres.

Then the Ru'ya came.
And the liminar visions
shook lucid branches.
Out fell good omens and
clairvoyant bifocals
that felt like hypersensitive
translations falling
onto the avenue of
the body.
These ensnarements of existence
unraveled in a slump-
just as the woven web.

I found thought's blessing
to be overwhelmed
by its curse.
Tears of sadness and
of laughter were
indistinguishable to me.
But what is
mankind's vertical
manifest destiny,
if thoughts vanish
at the close of
the day?
Maybe that could
hold some reason for
why I desire new
thought so bad.

And we often see
the blue moon standing
alone, or usually grab
blue garments when
the choice arises.
Pervasive percussive
traditions are climb up
incense sticks that induce
trance. While we religiously
stay up late to dance
and reach
and reach.

RwmG