Deep feeling is something vertical
and each one hundred feet of atmosphere adds
to the faith that mounts
round and round and all around
(never losing track of that previous vertical)
and though arbitrary and wholly subject to a poet’s folly
passion is what we make of it
while drawing our chalk-hewn hopscotches
here, or there, or within a lover’s soul.
More to the point-
Fluid skies and miles-long journeys can replace courage
if only for a while,
as sleep and wakefulness are tools to be created
and shaped every day, anew
alongside the rocky seashores to which silence retreats
diurnal to each day’s conversation.
Time can become an ally to this timid nature,
and as the millennia pass, also the blood of renewal
is sometimes spilled, while for others, it is stilled.
Each cycle of culture will be refolded and
replaced into moth filled chests-
All so, the cavalcades of war and yawning, expanding industrial reverb
hold no candle to what can be found within each of us
and that sometimes vertical sensation…