what if the stones laid in the foundation of life begin to crumble under the strife? the mortar dissolving into dry sand slipping away through fingered hands. what if the base rock withered as fallen leaves blown away by slightest breeze? would the tower fall into oceans deep? could all that is above survive such a sweep? impressive pedestals crack and creak, disrupting stability, disturbing sleep. where would feet fall, if toes touch first? how then to rebuild on ground so cursed? gravity pulls, as water swirls, to wash away all that’s unfurled. but to stand, and remain, one new stone soon to be lain, just one at a time through and despite one’s pain. but to not rebuild, never feign, that such option be seen as insane. hv 6-12-17
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AuthorMy life is a series of braided tangents. Archives
August 2017
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