Luck
the complexity of being human
Honesty is crude, where are we at,
jostling contradictions inside the foreboded self,
hosting old and new in the face of destruction,
usurping the ocean in front of waves.
Jacob climbed the ladder,
little red and the wolf,
the world spins in synchronicity,
yet happenstance, happens.
Rosters full of agendas and quiet spaces,
where strangers don’t have to look at each other,
blowing bubbles inside the court room as their fate is decided,
mob mentality is the substance that destroys.
Common foes move against the grain of gravity,
opulence is ravishing until the gown comes off,
we are then left with a vibrant naked being,
where everything just is.
Commas after sentences derived from above,
feathers fly down to greet us, spiritual signs,
do we know that God is with us,
but he is, he is.
We all need reassurance,
tiny steps at a time are secluded in Chesterfield,
one foot remains, then the other,
and we are brought down to the level of the imperfect self.
Dancing among desolation,
we rave about isolation,
yet it’s in the thickness that we survive,
perhaps even thrive, in perpetual motion.
Ganging up on reality,
never really knowing the truth,
saying this and that, no doubt more oft’ then not,
being sincere is very rare, indeed.
Hosting parties until the break of dawn,
sunrise and sunflowers peek through elongated windows,
horses stand forth and begin the day at it’s peak,
we grab our morning coffee.
And the rituals dance like swans in the water,
waters bubble up as they release CO,
we are lucky because it is of utmost importance,
that you yourself become the richest and most important, right?
Anna Rozwadowska 2023
