strive

though ludicrous the fortunate
way around the storm may be
the violent mannerism found
inside the calm beneath the
skin behind the eyes along the
quiet spine that swims just like
the candlelight which burns
around midnight when all those
imaginary creatures we’ve come
to fear arise so that the reality
which inevitably will do us in
appears jeopardized like a lone
gunman without bullets like an
archer without arrows like a
slash without flowing blood like
impending death without a
sparrow fluttering pausing on
a fencepost just the beginning of
the darkness just the beginning of
the rain just the beginning of the
lightening just the beginning of the
pain where the corner seems to
have comfort where the shadows
keep in light like the vibrance of
a cat’s eyes keeping clarity through
the rite with sparks of sullen
extravagance with secrets never told
with matches struck to light the
fuse with rivers flowing cold stones
pebbles sticks sand debris vomiting
down the way with predators standing
on the banks nodding gratefully at
their prey with rambles becoming
feats of legend with legends proclaiming
lies with liars becoming emperors with
emperors setting fire to all that could
have come upon a different way to
flee the agony that we all strive for
in the depths of our wildest dreams.