Albatross

Albatross

Doubt replaced with boredom

Transpose this crisis with hope like a trampoline to occupy my time

In somersaults and windswept displays of stationary movements

Imitating production in transportation of energy and

Accumulating experiences resulting in growth in appearance

Without traveling anywhere of note or identity proliferating

Onto divergent pathways to discover off shoots of self like coral growing

In these temperate waters all susceptible to such belligerent destruction

From the whims and ignorance of the masses knowing I am not headed anywhere

But up and then down to repeat in this no name town, but

In this dire cycle I see love like a beacon in God to let go

To at minimum know that in this pasture devoid of human touch

I can find contact and underneath the belly I am tempted to gorge on desperation

Like a stoic teenager awaiting the call form an obsessed fixated crush target

Doubting the ring tone will sound and yet I am bored rather than frantic

Knowing yes God is there, I am here to just live this life the best I can

I could love my butterfly like a garden watcher viewing her float from an

Absolve-able distance and blink at me with those green eyes bashing

And know we are in different worlds and I am doing my best to live this life

And appreciate beyond quarter this love that has been granted to me in teaspoons

And drink from the laughs of my daughter and the fringe of sustenance like

The ellipse of a quarter century eclipse of the sun bearing down on me in a perverted darkness

Calling a warmth in the reciprocal of everyone elses' normality

And I can see the Kraken tentacles of this desperation battering the sides of the cutter

As I dash around the reality of this ocean and my place of solitude in the commotion

And abandon fear like a jettisoned anchor acknowledging I will never have an island home

To call my own in the arrays of these cresting waves clawing at my solace

I can know all of this and be at peace in this trampoline of routine

In the wings of this dove boredom is dusting from the feathers like sprinkles of

Tinkerbell corollary thoughts clouding the size of this bird into an albatross

Hanging and weighing and a rejoinder of an anchor has recreated itself in my midst

Badgering me like a club back to loneliness, back to an atheistic extreme and yet

It may swell and rock this stance I know I will do the best I can and that is all that really matters.