Fury and Wonder (a poem)

In the savage beauty of springtime
The world opens, screams my name
The Idol of my ancestors was cruel
She contains just as much evil
As the goodness that keeps everything
Merged in musical chaos

That smile on your face – who is it for?
It is warped and mischievous
And your sharp teeth bite into me
Like a cold night-wind, unrelenting

Why do I write to you anymore when
It’s clear my master has forbidden me?

There are things we all know
And there are things unascertainable
With the five human senses, most of all the
Sense of sight, the colors we can’t see
Creatures veiled behind doors of
Discernment, violent lies

The Idol lies to us so often that I’ve lost faith
He made his covenants, broke every single one
He has no remorse, kills without mercy
And then he begs us back into his good graces

This is so much like the way my mind fights itself
A duality unified in singular confusion
And a door is opened into psychosis
I say often that I am lost, but maybe, I’ve been found
Amid seeking, I grip onto something solid but unseen
It slips from my hands like a running stream
That impermanence again, my friend

Didn’t you know? Didn’t you listen to the guru when we climbed to the top of the hill and saw him in the blazing desert sun?

Just be quiet now, the wind is like so many things that make promises it cannot keep, a nature gentle but rugged, abhorrent but calm, wrapped into a kaleidoscope of fury and wonder –

remove the chains from your blistered wrists,
kiss me on the mouth,
and let go

(Photo by Timothy Dykes on Unsplash)

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