the pattern prime

Reaching for the tools

held onto by fools

who use them for biding by

don't see how to look outside

Of the textbook way

aching by the day

my spine is stiff and still I reach

pain clings to me like a leech

The way out seems barely accessible

must keep saying "my body is a vessel"

pushing to build a special house

where I can be secure and rest

I got, well almost, only me; cleaning up

a seemingly revolving mess

I must have on an invisible cape..

a wonder woman I must be

looking for soil, on mostly arid land

to plant a special kind of tree

little patches hiding here and there

I find and I see

Grateful for the few glimmers of light, and smiles, and eyes noticing

little me

Down here

waving up

smiling politely

while shouting inside

I am no longer on the ride

in which I survived

but a journey appearing graceful

As I walk along, its' erroneously surmised

that I do so uninjured..

though despite it, I must rise

because this is my chance to thrive

And if i keep the balance wise

then the plan could comprise

a healing..

all in dealing

The cards right this time

from the inside;

like the perfect rhyme

the pattern prime

October 26th, 2012

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