Don't scry for me...
Sat in the center
Of my own reality
Expressing the joy
Of creation on record
My legacy growing
If silence means accord
Can't pay you with monies
For your own creations
Just give permission
To go with your reactions
Of creation that is born
From this center as source
Crediting me to yourself
Of course
Am right hear for you
In your clever endeavorors
Together we work
On making joyful treasures.
To be shared annon
Free to all
disguising my own voice
so as not to fall
into the gap where imagination is cursed
With new approaches
to the age old problemos
With this here just being
My lasting momentos.
That the one I am
Really can count
among the many
Refusing to mount
My own self on the wall
Of a martyred soul
Caught on the barbs
Of realities dole'
Full to a brim of a teacup
Storming away
With a saucer catching the drip.
Drip drip...
Catch on quicker.
The answers are there
When you manage to figure.
That maths is perfect
But nature is a knot
All data being equal
In the art of counting what we've got.
Knowing the where
Theory takes over
Leading the blind
Into the perfect clover
Following along for in their haste
They forgot that people
Are merely the subject
Draped as though in purple
Each one counting
Their own spaces
Communicating to others
I am real despite the cases
That once opened
Are found to be empty
©wrennie
W