deepundergroundpoetry.com

Healing  precipitation

Am I the tangle blown?
gusted, tumbling into the great unknown.
My anchor drags
and doubts do spawn.
A grappling hook
its barb and claw.
An image on the scanner drawn.
To calculate, find each natures law
the excess that will always multiply.
Where are the constants? pride
 strode righteousness; how not to be its pawn.
The strength to regulate a move
as cast unfolds upon the potters wheel.
Entity, it shook my hand
 maleficent, never knowing where to draw the line.
Poof; I felt a wind sublime.
A cornball magnet said it all.
Into your life a little rain must fall,
how fierce the gust before the storm.
slipalong
Written by slipalong
Published
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