Ashes in Urns

The healing stream
of a

primal scream, I pledge
unto the ledge:

To fall down as many times, to arise in rhymes of

outer space in time, because – because, going to do it till I die. It’s the only

life I know or want to know, because – because,

life has a way of departing, even the canvas of art, but to the canvas it always

returns.

The most brilliant paint arises out

ashes
of
urns; beauty is a passion that burns

with life:  Alive.

[even & especially]