Welcome to It

There was a fable-
a blinking star gone green in the distance,
across shore and simple sea. 
Self indulgence alights our enemies.

Thoughts process to grow while ego choking hard
our castle with its single diamond room.
Because just thoughts, simple chaos,
in the far reaches of what's happened to our bodies,
letting those minutes in time eat up
our minds-insides : color coding
trauma equals drama, offers a good impetus to curtain call.

Sing yourself home; no one can rise up from your ashes for you.
None, but you.
Let the thorns binding up your heart's pelt trunk
down, twindle, swarming, free.
Your arms, they're bleeding happy trails to mark
the way behind you.
You'll find yourself always watched over.

Heart born again a lump of dust mites in clay,
without sculpture or circumstance.
Etchings over ridiculous arithmetic parameters of breath and mistakes.

Indeterminism is a clean contract.

~ M. Lucia