Round 2 - post-Work Rebound

It’s not the darkness that scatters itself across my path.

I’ve laughed and embraced the darkness for so long

That it’s sick of the sight of me—can’t stand the fight in me

And now does everything to stay out of my way.

Nor is the cold the perforation crashing my party.

The notion of diminished molecular motion in air, in space,

Fuels my imagination to leap beyond such stations of desolation

And tricks the flickers of my own inactivity into battle grace.

The haunt of death is not what causes me pause.

I’ve met that faerie numerous times on life’s path,

Sometimes itself impaired and discarded in the gutter,

I’ve nurtured it back to a vibrant upstart, oftentimes screaming “See ya later!”.

So what is it that’s got me jacked,

Turned upside into a make-me-neverminded state of whack?

My synchronicity-lover, splendidus igneus, sol muliebris,

Movens me atqui procul penitus.

I was awash in an imaginative river of romance last night.  I regret that I have to work this morning or I’d expound upon it.

Brrrrr!   Cold!   Snow!  ::just perfect for a solitary afternoon run in the winter-desolate cemetery.  Then I’ll let my muses decide if such expounding as I ponder above fits into the mortal unfolding of a man seeking.

love.