Cicada thoughts

All history

mysterious, 

as always our search in kind, 

and arms surrounding

Colors, naked

wretched,

bleeding 

becoming a gateway 

a drowned simplicity

And hunters with their lead treasures

chase the sounds of cicada

burrowed in their sleep

beneath, in a bed to know

A door to one

then another 

opens

Then comes the sudden absence 

the single thought 

the lost impression-

The world

our earnest spin

birds from cages call

and always eventual 

the cicada awakens

Always another breath

renews.

 

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we can count on two things...the cicadas returning...and our political leaders making lots of noise but accomplishing nothing..they need to be put in cages...
until their breaths renew with some words that matter.
j.

[Perdition]

Did we just forget about Texas? I"ll put my trust in the cicadas and history. "Divided We Fall" Going to be a process and our leaders need to learn how to lead and the governed need to slow the governing! Equality before the law is critical but politics in Poetry? Still not so sure about that. Faith is in beauty and beauty is not just in truth but in the balance as well, We'll get back there one day with discipline and time. Patience and all those other pearls of wisdom and weaknesses that comes in "We the People". We're still a young experiment "And (experiencing) Eternity in an hour". And a time to be alive! Thanks, J.