A Conundrum of Contradictons

for those who write of nothing but “their” god contribute to an ever growing wad of crumbled thoughts and idle promises comprised of all the do’s and don’ts and did’s rephrased in rhapsodic search for cause old lions licking at their thorn scarred paws unable to deduce that beauty’s rose is best enjoyed at distance by the nose t’is not the howling wind that bows the trees nor perdition’s threat that calms the raging seas but the words I find indigenous to me that I cherish and reluctantly set free so crumble them – recycle if you must old dreams recovered from life’s living dust John G. Lawless ©6/12/2019