Ratiocination

Come my soul... Let us bend the night air a bit From aerial views make licorice paths mapping our trails through the firefly fields. Let us disband with cordiality for I am as heavy as rain with the weight you are carrying Rain left transient, in pregnant clouds, with no release... Let us search down by braille lake for the source of your troubles With a host of pretension, we'll sleep on flat rocks long abided by most until all of your pain comes right out all of your fingers to etch the stone to discovery. Let us tether the roots of the banyan tree and weep while we swing our citrus tongues thus -wind in the proverbial hair and such- No sting of bitterness upon our brows No breadth in our uncanny rejoicing to be conquered by those that love us less then we have always deserved. Come my soul... For suffering has it's grip no more in the arms of self reliance- You are my definition, and tonight, my soul, I am yours.