Sunday, February 7, 2016

the murder

their voices call out call out cacophonously
Into the rush hour traffic
Shrill and divisive
these languages clash
As a tide breaking on the rocks
at the whims of the moon
They ebb and flow
In the nexus of diligent and deft
The saunter of community cries out inadvertently
As a side effect of our interdependence
Here they rely on one another
Here, they seek each other’s company
And in these fleeting moments
when the rain begins to fall
so tremendously human
Where we seek comfort in the words of another
And I seek comfort in my ideas,
in the visions I have, deep in the woods
where they call me 'brother'
beckoning me to their depths
where I feel so small, and honored, and hailed
to be home where the lichens coat everything
in the worlds that envelop my thoughts
I want to BE here so much
Where our minds are one, on-line, convergent
Where my voice is louder and deeper than it already is
Where I feel so connected to my peers, as equals
In this realm, reserved for those that hear the murder as a song
lapping up the rain like nectar

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