Diamond In the Rough
Diamond in the rough
Skyline, makes me hot like a fevered owl,
As light languishes in my murky puddle
Like a furious flea made of phosphorous
And indecision. My indecision.
Like sad gray lenses over my pupils; my heart's pulse,
From which sacred energy rains down on us
Like the quarreling feathers from above.
And all through, too...
The birds, we birds, flutter and fret our way...
Keep busy, make busy, we'll all have a laugh one day.
One day, we'll all know the joke at the exact same time
And our spastic wings will fold as we stand adjacent to our greater spirit.
Our diamonds out of the rough,
Us, climbing out of sand.
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