I would run away if only I could from this crazy place, this mad mad race.
I would take hearts and trees and leave behind minds and machines.
Nowhere here, is there a conviction or a rule that in a breath doesn’t devour itself with it’s own contradiction.
Nothing here has the roots it needs to hold it’s own branches.
All of these jagged edged bones and tightly wired jaws hidden behind high ideals trash and wrench at each other until….
Call yourself a freedom writer, a freedom fighter?
Call yourself a lover, a leader?
You are no different than me.
And I am no different than the ones whose deeds I profess to hate and all the while who’s souls I call mirrors of my own.
Yet I go on, warring on my own shadow then promising to save it….from what?
I would run away but to where?……….
Could I stay?
Stay here amidst the noise,
But quietly & un-noticed elope through that fragile veil
And bring hearts and trees,
To the inner realms, where those who reside,
Though they see the garing neon ferris wheel
And hear it’s screeching jarring sounds spinning and spinning,
Stay still, and watch even their own mind machine
Profess to hate and promise to save souls and kill shadows.
And in the silence behind their own noise,
They gently embrace hearts and water trees
In the warmth of the Infinite,
Annette Morris Keane