November 3
Liminal
Not everything which is birthed arrives here alive;
sometimes struggle is answered with stillness.
I love thee in thy loss for there is no life to love thee in. Hope can be a bubble that breaks returning to
whatever it was before that perfect roundness and yet the roundness is not a
mistake. Reflected beauty is beauty all
the same. Some sparks aren’t meant to
become flames, but their glow still warms my eye.
Wage old wars only in the past and never in the present
*
DOWN THE UPSIDE
On the downside of a rising star there is too much fear
Anticipation is recommended for ascent, delight should be encouraged
But all out alarm is usually sounded whether it is needed or not.
Panic dims the shining pleasure of mounting the sky.
Refuting celestial status, denying astral projection, I renounce myself.
Attaining height, my position in space is apparent
To bystanders and onlookers.
I need to ride the comet and accept fate my nemesis
Fortune shines on me
I should not squint away kismet.
On the downside of a rising star there is too much fear
Anticipation is recommended for ascent, delight should be encouraged
But all out alarm is usually sounded whether it is needed or not.
Panic dims the shining pleasure of mounting the sky.
Refuting celestial status, denying astral projection, I renounce myself.
Attaining height, my position in space is apparent
To bystanders and onlookers.
I need to ride the comet and accept fate my nemesis
Fortune shines on me
I should not squint away kismet.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to
Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
