Lexiconic Bliss

Poetry readers,
Listeners,
And the curious.

Might it be
Poets escape demands?

Do they do
Beyond mere being?

Is it not possible
Dignity's survival depends
On being detached
From that which
Wishes
To attach?

Could such inner freedom
liquefy shackles
Of riches,
Of fame,
Of expectation?

And...

Is it possible
Rewards reside
In dances with words,
While others labor language
To serve,
To validate,
To insure
Their attachment
To other others?

Perhaps...

Spirits generous
Remain uncontainable,
Like water running
Around,
And over
Stones,
And other
Obstacles impotent
To imprisonment.

For some...

Aloneness
Protects true peace,
The calm voice
Whispering a language of fire
From a forever candle,
A flame impervious to storms,
Its seclusion secured.

Still…

Humble we must be,
For we are but stand-ins
For sunrises in the dark,
We poets,
We purveyors of
Lexiconic bliss.