Lately I’ve sat in webs of languor,
drinking teaspoons of petty juice,
hoping to chance on one taste of flavour
among the few dull sips to choose;
And Lately has been nothing more than
dragging kites in musty air
on rusty chains that groan to spend time and
space with stuffy cloud lids that bare
their numb flaccid Selves to the sun
which doesn’t care which way they look
or wander, just like the muse on the run
who still fails to return to the brain it forsook.

And sugar prisms yield no rainbows
from melting in rain
storm sweetness in teacups.

Like birds afraid of blue we learn that
we can ride on wind
in the red of sunsets.

And paper horses weighed-- from fleeing --
down by iron shoes
learn to tear loose and fly.

Like flowers who know only of Spring
and not much of life,
is life of Spring itself.

And falling stars that streak skies unseen
waste not their brilliance
on wishes that soon dim.

We see it now
We now know how
we can build nests from shambles.

Well, look how far we’ve come.

Things do work out finally, somehow.
Like Tia reminded me the other day when I was balancing on the edge of Sanity,
"Every thing happens for a reason".

Believe it.
They do! They do!
(: