Islands

I sat awhile to contemplate,
On all horizons’ potent shores,
For seeming keener demonstration,
Matched to hue and fit to cause.

What glamour in those tempting flecks!
How green the grass and clear the air
Imagination could project!
Utopia, an everywhere!

In equal earthly measurement,
A paradise, to each, their own;
All borderline inhabitants;
All sovereign and all alone.

In mindful pieces, deafening;
No easy peace, the solo soul’s
Whole Heart’s desire: a weapon,
Filling space with fancy holes.

No witnesses invested:
Neither push nor pull for growth.
No purpose nor perspective,
Yet the psyche needs them both.

Aimless, isolated beings,
In entropic feedback loops
Of existence without reason
And devoid of living proof.

But no body is an island,
Or: why would we be, at all?
Even Free Will scans the mirrors,
That its spirit should evolve.

And, grateful for the meaning in
The value healthy friction bore,
I rose, returning, keenly,
To the world I knew before.

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