Wild Blue Yonder

Wild Blue Yonder

The seasons’ rouge vicissitude
mimics us-

We are everything
And naught;

In the face of false realities
that dis-illusion us,

From the only one true realism
we both have.

We’re Simultaneously-
Neither-
Here
Nor-
There-

Shifting paradox of flesh-
Of mind;

Shifting flame of green;
Now blunt white;

Flowers of fireworks twinkle-
Susurrus of mind to soul-

Only discourse of aphorisms that flowers’ truly unflawed-
This simple plain of objective beauty that folds us neatly in the pockets,
Of others-

Is a quagmire of ornery discord-
That you,
And I,

Stand fractured,
Reflective against-

This modern day

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