"All I see is wide open mouths" -some Joe
And what was found to be lovely, sliced and cut for a mass gesture of generic romanticism and narcissistic want.. lay across the table in dried appreciation.
It is not kind to kill what is beautiful.
It is not necessary to pluck what is lovely:
However, that is us.
We people.
Full of need and greed and the desire to own what is not ours.
Goodbye lovely sterlings,
Your time with us was appreciated.
While we wander in directions of gratitude.
Of wanting and needing and consuming and disposing.
At least with the mind to give thanks.
At the very least.
What if not worthy, of passing curiosity.
What is debris, also a splash of paint on the canvas.
Graffiti on a wall.
Some might scratch it out, paint it over, block it away-
As if it never was.
And yet it was.
Undeniable in existence.
So we are nothing less than that, surely.
Our stay duly noted- whether in blinding lights or dark of night.
Whether worthy or unworthy, decrepit or vibrant -
Out breath, out lights- all the same.
So then,
The twisted strands of twine, twirling lightly, casting twinkles of shock spikes out through the great divide,
Seeking divine with knowing and unknowing minds,
As lemmings plunging off the rock face.
So I see demise with spreading wings,
A dragon flies to pluck them from the sea.
A snack for the greater good, or feast for a villages' demise.
Making room for the next, and the next-
As marbles rolling off a table.
