Like the rain that pelts these single glazed window panes
The consonant rhyme helping to keep these lines in time
You ask me to free fall
With no cord or bungee support
Off the side of Control-Cliff
Expertly engineered under My high Way
Into an abyss of nothing-ness.
The optimum word in the sentence is trust
The first thought that flashes through my mind
Is that I will bust my ass on the rocks that form
the gorge pool, elaborately covered by the foams of a turquoise plunge pool.
It’s my strength that we are relying on
But these muscles are tired from
Rowing against the tide
Undergoing that long distance ride
Until massages can’t even hide
The distorted form of this bruised and blotchy human side.
My intellectual faculties of comprehension and eloquent expression
Were the tools I used to further my profession.
The basis, the foundation, the Cephas of my self-governed nation
A kingdom of grey matter, over which I am the only Father
And now you say it’s all crumbled to dust
I the Creator must become the Desecrator
Bulldozing through the temple, erasing the remnants
Till it reintegrates into the cycle: from dust to dust.
And instead of that knowledge that sometimes transpired into wisdom
I should return to a distant voice
Overpowered, under-shouted, over roared by the thunder, the lightning, the earthquakes and the ever-present heart that is thumping.
Instead – of course there’s always a stead, a steed of a different breed that will return me to the Foreign Homestead
I should bend my ear, to the faintly heard whisper
and seek to honour a Governor who controls no boarders I can see
No militant lines, raises up no National Boundary Signs
Of this here terra…
…and in giving up my desire
I will find a path that will lead me to the higher realm, design, functioning plan of your regimes prime
to march through the mire, to a different drum beat, which promises to make this yearning heartbeat
secure, in His ultimate desire.
Well…I’ll try not to make the prospect seem too dire.
In the process, I’ll be she, the one that is attempting to trust in the vision which claims to be, and resolutely is
higher than mine.
The will of the divine.