Crystalline

What is not ours
Cannot be owned;
Yet forward bless
The blind unknown.
Deep the dirt,
Etched the root
Through rock and loam;
Grasciously green
The pallet paint is placed upon.
Fearless/momentary
Neither here nor there.
The ever now of nature,
Never in fright.
Nor in fear.
Inanimate an intimate;
Veiled in leaves
Or cloaked in ferns.
Humanity-our brains burned;
Heat-stroked and heavy,
Our craving yearns.
With hides worn at the seams
It seems, once again,
And again,
Balanced within a pendulum-
Centered in a metronome-
Of a quick human flinch
Of all frightful unknowns.
What is meant to flow
And circulate to quench
The smallest of thirst,
The finite birth
Of an earth-
Tattered by of our vapid claim
Of squatters rights?
Our hubris stench;
The drop of the gavel
From a cowards bench.
Pardon the water.
Its possession an affront.
It’s sentence a fraud.
Release the damn dam.
Man sold the moon’s shine,
The stenographer is a drunkard
And the judge,
Hidden from daylight,
Slipped through the glossy shade
And was long ago laid
And grossly paid.
What is meant to ground?
The fulcrum, the soil,
Spoiled and tilled,
Cut and milled
Will neither cower or whimper
Under the stupor
Of mans tireless march
To the mesas edge;
The bludgeoned drop
So gracelessly ahead
Where the red rock will neither
Rejoice nor dread
And the hymnal will rejoice
Amen, Amen.
