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Poem

A spirit is what it is,
sharing yet selfish, starving yet sated,
a humble sky that can erupt into a hurricane,
can be an avalanche on the mountain of confidence,
it will be a maternal calm in a moment of marbled mania,
or shatter the laughter of happiness with the pompous scorn of suspicion,

This element of unapologetic adrenaline is magnetic,
tickles our tastes like a feather of silky sweetness,
shapes the clay of a body's cunning with lust lost in a thirsty lick,
bestows bravery on Jealousy and can make a fool of Devotion,
Destiny is the web of it's dance, Fate the funeral of it's expectations,

Designs dreams and shares tears with Death,
weddings and wars, crimes and kindness are famiar family,
Joy, the breakfast of it's youth,
Determination, the dragon of it's desire,
walks like weather too cool for sunshine
breathes like butter burnin in a salty simmer,
the only force known
to be capable of creation and destruction with equal ease,
Love is the name, Life is the game,
cinnamon on the breath of suspense -

J.A.B.

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