POEM: The Rein of Hope

A tsunami of is coming
Are you preparing such a weigh?
Will you be caught looking
Through shot glasses
Only to be decked out with eyedroppers
For blood shot eyes, those vanes
Ill quipped to see arose
As a master of heavy arts
Uprooted by a juggernaut of
Leaving ewe to find won self
Oar reel underwater
In the bust of surf and turf
As well sculpted ideologies
Serve up anchors and chains
In efface of assail boat
Occupying the same
Regardless of weather cap size
Kicking buckets down the road
As if
is to be fathomed
Only too arrive
More than any won dare expected
Even as some specious of large-mouthed perch
Will settle
Just enough
Too fill one’s lunge
In a whirled turned
Upside down
As big fish in a bigger pond
And still
floats
Not even holding water
A parent as sow much hot air
As a cloud to water
The sores of cleansing
Bound to witness new arisings
From such a gossamer point of you
Not to be governed by stars
Returning only amor
Gentle reign on earth

This poem addresses head on and on one of my favorite themes: is easy. Hope is often somewhat more elusive.  , enthusiasm, and an open are prerequisites for hope to flourish.  is happening the .  Do you see it?  Don’t get caught looking through shot glasses or nurturing any of the many chronic dis-eases characterized buy the hardening of the attitudes.  is skulking about working its way into the seemingly hermetically sealed hearts of the ignorant and perversely-incentivized, and when the is right, will flood the vacuum in such vacant souls.  Things will suck in anew weigh for those not paying attention in tuition of as a topsy-turvy whirled writes itself a new .  Feel free to spice up your  with such advent seasoning…

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