Fluid Thunder

Time-release capsules
remember upbringing,
conditioning,
controlling amidst darkness.

Do this.
Do that.
Sallow, sad, brainwashed living.

But then one day

Smoldering choices ponder,
but never engage,
become antipathy's eruption,
inner flames licking vacuous air,
singed thoughts once stranded come alive,
dancing atop the flames.

Fog burns away,
exiled forever
as paths emerge,
clarity appears natural.

Valleys spread about,
landscapes yet to name,
seeded by epiphanies
sprouting growth without poisons
await harvest patiently.

Beyond…

Living’s chameleon mountain,
its mirrored self-layering molten sides
storing echelon energy,

stands ready for survival needs.

While…
 
Liquid fire deep within life's internment

craving to be free,
sleeps with one eye open,
awaiting the ready.

And so…

The mission is forever pondering
the when, if, how,
and especially the why.

Why does this seldom speaking fluid thunder
choose such unexpected moments
to purge forth a spent past,

often gasping from unhealed wounds?

For what?

Might it be…

To accept burial,
to forget,
to scatter the exhausted energy as life's compost,
to gratefully become the re-cycling of existence,
joining the cosmic continuum,
an ingestion ad infinitum?