Habit turned into addiction.
No matter all the great oblations
men have paid to gods that never
listened to the wisdom of their hearts.
What is it you're addicted
to these days...?
Alcohol...? Those binding drugs...?
More sinister, the dregs of love
that never became real.
Sealed within a kiss that
so never-ending, way back when,
your innocence was altered by
the rush and crash of waves upon
the cliffs of their unaltered sanity.
Twenty-twenty vision. Another
vivisection in the tomes of their division.
Fog and mist endure amid the many
battles playing still within the currency
of this, their misery. Why then,
does it feel so much the same as what
their parents once exclaimed to be
untouchable in streams made of creation...?
And oh, the grief! Still
prior generations - that eats away the very cells
that heart and soul still seek. Overboard,
without a single lifeline to sustain the pain
we feel. Withering, the fantasy of life
that tries to live within the death
of old beliefs.
Another habit born - named
We eat, we breathe, we sleep and wake.
Yes - we are addicted to our lives.
And still, she storms within the cloudy
skies that ever bend into another rainbow
arching - powerfully sustaining some deep feel
of every life's enduring need. Living far
beyond and yet within the spin that dwells
within the joy and suffering of life and love...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .