Locked In a Pattern

as the summer begins to show itself through the impending warmth & sun of the spring, the cold, wintry skies dissipate (clouds breaking apart, snow changing back to cold downpour & the wind no longer blistering, but instead bringing relief to the sudden swelter) & it is much easier to see in the morning’s mirrored reflection, the face of a being locked in a pattern where the closing in walls of cabin fever & the ever rising feet of snow now hold no more relevance--- what wonder it would be to break free of the pattern that isolation has so cruelly brought upon us, so that now, soaked in vitamin D & dancing the intimate ritual that we enjoy as the flipside of the battles that somehow always arise in july & august, passions are able to reinvigorate themselves & rather than stay glued to the sofa or the computer chair, there is that new hope within which underneath lights a fire so that from up we spring into the spontaneous energy of the now, ever knowing that all too quickly this becomes the pattern on which all things mundane & routine form anew so that the craving for a death of all the bugs & an end to the beautiful people walking round in their skivvies (rubbing our faces in their flawless nature), etc., becomes the want to break the pattern again.