(Let There Be Light)
Struck again by lightening
like there was no beginning,
no sending of a message,
no sublime presser of <Enter>.
Green is true and ever was
to imbue the shadows
where the hungry wait
to seal the fate of the choiceless.
The voiceless won’t be ever so:
things do grow — we’ve seen it now —
how time bestows ‘I am’ and sows
the seeds for was and will be.
It moves me, watching from the cusp,
this stammer-lisp of sea change,
to derange the old assumption,
gather gumption, and press on.
Only movement can be steered
by multi-tiered emotion
and children of the mindful wave
to save creative chaos.
We see loss when we venture near.
Things dear to us are tested,
vanities arrested in the tide
as pride subsides — is bested
by new visions for our verities,
new measures, marks, and similes,
new hopes, and dreams, and canopies
to shelter luminosities.