It barely vanquishes my quenchless spirit of inquiry.
To what exactly reason have I sledded so wildly?
Boasters and swindlers sprang up a treaty vigorously.
People are queuing to sway slated on a promontory.
It's plodding to incite thugs by misleading people.
Your genuine assertion is both witless and guileful.
By discerning purport, you may be pioneering.
As though a doleful mistrust was typically unfurling.
Why is it crucial to recur an idyllic shade?
It's time to hoard the dart and glittering blade.
Valorous braves are slogging toward the staid.
Everlasting zest is not a squib and never fades.
Yet we must swither in waging truth and moral virtue.
Truth and equity can't alter insight on specific bestow.
Written: December 24, 2021
This Sterling Day of Nothing
Where is God?
God is where gods are not.
Not in office bright,
Or silver stairs cued to reason
Or trapped in football season,
Or filled to the brim,
in fife and bugle corps where
Ceremony roars;
Or dangling from her chin,
Or full and bright in summer’s glory;
But deep within the fibers of your
Carpet; God lays in wait, sledded
Glory; Plaintively you step upon his skin;
You trip his wires boundless to seep
Through the gap – this day,
This sterling day of nothing.
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