would that we might
seek refuge
in a distance
be aware of our
surroundings
I will guide you by wing
sweeping upon distant
perils and swallows
trust me
for it is my
guidance
would you chance
in the grips of Nature’s siege
upon a
human
whose quiet
fallibility
reveals itself
in a distant
memory.
He was blessed one lament might imagine
A gift of gab suggests notions driven.
Drawing circles upon colorful lines
by need, sacrifice, like well mannered wines.
A departure constrained, value in word
To such a degree one might cry absurd.
Painful, ridicule, delightful repose
Confusion defined response we suppose.
For when actions shouted speak now aloud
His eyes might divert intention to cloud
Judgment, scrutiny, respective concern,
Beyond values held we might now discern.
Human condition respects our release
When syntax and grammar merit our peace.
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