Take me to the River
...the never-ending flow.
Thought framing time talk weaves a triptychal trance,
from then to now, and what’s yet to come,
a bronc bustin’ chance dance,
beneath a relentless sun.
Lead me to the water.
Take away my shoes and wade me down.
Head submerged, breath purged,
take up the celestial crown.
Risen from surf, feet on earth,
a vapor passing, a zephyr off gassing,
God said, “Truth is dead.”
Long live truth.
Logging thoughts to save them from loss,
his hands clutch at the breeze.
Gradualism reigns supreme,
sounds of the American war machine
rumble down through Lennon town.
He struggles to complete a phrase,
the words are lost, a tattered page.
A lone dog barks at dawn,
its pointless announcement, a foreign tongue
demanding that danger remain unseen,
concealed among sixth-sensed secrets.
Where do banished thoughts go to die?
The forgotten semblance of disorder reckoned
as illegitimate, untrustworthy, untruths that threaten
the fragile, yet buttressed narrative,
we are led to believe?
Watch me pull a rabbit from my hat
the hapless moose intoned.