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Close To Color
How curious that we stay on our tracks,
Hinged firm and speeding-stars pinned to our backs.
They cradle our past which can’t help but fade,
Reminders of the life in which we wade.
We tilt with wonder-basking on the brink,
The unknown waits for moments when we blink.
It takes our hands and asks for our accord,
To leave our course and grasp what we’ve ignored.
Our wheels dislodge as we begin to glide,
Buoyant from our prior rigid ride.
We float in warmth-surrendering to chance,
And twinkling veils of light begin to dance.
We’d strung our stars tight-pressed them to our spine,
Took out their breath and forced them to align.
Their hibernation left us with our plans
Stagnate, gloomy and lacking in élan.
Yet now they rest upon our faces bright,
A tickling birth of sparks and urge ignites.
The doubt shapeless and hidden throughout time,
Emerges strongly-aiding in our climb.
So join the birds and clouds and wondrous sky,
And touch the planets merging with your eyes.
For you must grapple with the sacred parts,
Which seem to be protruding from your heart.
We cannot force ourselves to match the white,
When dark-so special-is the magic sight.
Do not resist the underlying lust,
To dance with wind and disregard the dust.
And after this kaleidoscope goes mute,
We’ll wander, futile, to our former route.