Walking alone,

vulnerable and reflective,

on a cold and whispering

moon drenched night,

when all the world is silent

and asleep,

and all beings are

resting from the

certainty and uncertainty

of their living.

 

Listening to the muzzled sounds

of children laughing,

as if the world

is not more than

a grand playground

of happy delusions

and the cold steel

of death has not

touched their

tender and

playful hearts.

 

Seeing the soft ephemeral touch

of the faithful ones

who help the helpless

in the blind spots

when all the world

is watching the ones

who want to be watched,

and all the world

lives the delusion

of possessiveness.

 

Applauding honesty

in the face of duplicity,

when the majority who are swayed

have not the courage,

nor the insight,

nor the wisdom,

to see the vizards

that shroud the truth,

or the gumption to

question the

forked tongues

who speak

in slogans and rhetoric.

 

23-8-2014