Grow Hearty

(Sometimes I just need the D)
A glass of whole milk
coats the ghost peppered tongue
the same as
a cloudy haze of natural occurrence
awkward delusional bliss
numbed fantasy rebellion
coats a world of unending pain and loss
both tongue and temper tragedy
are veiled by heavy blanket
ceasing to feel
rather than feeling well
Voting with our currency
rather than our conviction
throwing water balloons
at a growing inferno
flames licking at the gates to recovery
replacing our inherent value
with fake lookalikes
our vision with bags
over our heads
Constantly craving substance
slowly eroding form
brought distractingly to a slow boil
swimming for the edge of the kettle
trying to pull ourselves out
and escape into freedom
It is my duty to plant seeds
it is my inability to make them grow
it is my calling to nurture best I can
the seeds that have been planted in me
so they may grow hearty roots
and extend toward heaven someday
casting shade rather than throwing it
allowing others to find rest and reprieve
felt uncommonly enough
as to shock and awe
in stillness holding back the flood
I wish to be well
I wish to feel the depth and weight of experience and existence
in these fleshy meat lockers
housing eternity and butterflies
holding secrets and declarations
helping to provide recumbency for worry
hoping to combat mass confusion and turmoil
So I must begin by pulling my own weeds
tilling my own soil
providing fresh fluidity
and basking in the light of day
only then will transformation be possible
from barren wasteland
to bountiful garden
providing enrichment as feast
down a lengthy table
and serenity across it
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Being heard, stirred, and perhaps cured by life's many hidden images and the written-spoken word.
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