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.
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