With Strategy
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So many angles offered, I accept, & it
leave me lost. I still have the basic
structure, familiar around for my eyes to
see. As for now, I hold onto the present
moment, carefully, & with strategy. Is
this storm real? Winds of elemental
substance, I realize, & I want it to travel
out of my reality. Blending the two sides
together, merging the opposites, &
mixing a formless idea into a form that is
repeatedly in my grasp. Dropped to the
floor, constructed of energy & gravity
holds together the last time, I'll let go.
The eyes slightly shed a few tears
wondering what happened, & If I'll ever
see a memory emerge back into a form to
hold. Interactions are valid, with the day
to day motion, & sooner or later I'll
recognize. Repetitive thoughts to belief
are not the same as a stance with faith.
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