Grateful

Together they strum, like men to paddle, co-ordinated, unbroken,
Like beads, threaded together, taut strings, stretched,
Fresh binding off the printing press,
Fluid enchantment that the waves possess.

The times of the orange sun and monsoon rain,
The seasons pass, swift in change,
Murky clouds of listless days,
Hang morose over sheltered bays.

A split, a break, an enormous crack,
Through shallow months, resounding back,
In exactness they wickedly invoke,
Insecurity in rooted silver oak.

A powerless surrender, scribbled in good faith,
In destiny’s grand book, on a very last page,
Confessions, sincere, even faithful frankness,
Didn’t bring home sympathetic reply, dutifully expected.

Harrowed, unstable, a gradual wither,
Venom to vein, a clever slither,
Fanged apparition flying here,
Tumbling in general disarray, vague yet clear.

Inquiry finding no retort,
No words, and no rewards,
Endurance tested and patience stabbed,
Finally to another flies burdened voice.

Threatening to flood, to overwhelm,
Is a baffling insanity, a cold dread,
But intelligent is beaver, a dam he builds,
A sanctuary of protected happiness, from nothing.

He pulls at painful debris, useless before,
Pads it together with expert skill, stability restores,
Doing kindness, in soft words and treats,
Mended is spirit, more than slightly.

Thankful eyes skim thrice,
At messages, multiple, saintly wise,
Searching eyes swallowed by raven night,
Meet compassion's gaze....... and beautifully cry.

Insomnia at 4:41 am.
July 8th.