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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