Un-Infected

Caught between the Scylla of illness and the Charybdis of wholeness My reason and my belly make a swift retreat infected by indecision. Side by side they stand now silent like the dead. I hear stranger cry interrupting silence of the night. Shadows of the sun sets some new, untrodden path. To wake, to cleanse, to make man's spirit free. Across the street a lonely bird envies my resolution. A gentle touch of the wind scares it away. In my little walled-in garden tree of optimism now blooms. Luminous rays of sun teach me a new lesson Bring yourself to your roots. To manifest reason's grace I hide the biggest residence -- cynicism, so tender, so sweet. Lit up by a spark the counsel reticent like finding a magic chalice footsteps of a new life intrude its swift pace precludes the old disharmony. Unseen to sentient life unknown into the known. I wait for faith's flux of ebb and flows not a murmur of the past, besieged and turbulent. Lost quietude slips into night.