Friday, November 18, 2005

Which Is Madness Anyway


But, did you not see

the shadow at your shoulder?

Have you no recall

of my promise to be there,

to assist you in times of trouble?

Has thou heart been so heavy

you lost a wing? Oh, to fly again

and breathe the scents of the heavens

whilst a whisper of the breeze

featherly, and caress they breast.

As the the blossoms of Spring

burst its' marvelous array

to soothe thy soul.

Like the forsythia, painting

its annual yellow cloud burst;

Speaking only a language of comfort.

Have thou wings forgotten

how to lift thee back into

the "canopy of the evening"?

O dear, I pray thou has not succumbed

to the travesty, in a world

seeming crazy by repetition

Which is madness anyway!



Del Cano 2004

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