Short Ride, Fast Machine

For so long,
How simple the decision,
Adolescent verve clinging,
Teens,
Young adults,
Maturity delivering but blurred lines.

Yet clarity awaits.

How arresting
When canvases stretched,
Invite a wash of honest hues
Beckoning clear eyes quenched by truth,
Extending visceral pigments rich,
Arcing brush tendrils of mind's synapses
Across learning's pleading fiber,
At last accepting not colors by numbers,
Risking instead a rogue's palette,
A liquefied Philip Glass expedition
Traversing life's uplifts,
Unconquerable peaks,
Endless deserts,
Fathomless oceans,
Undefined infinity.

To be…

To float within the darkness,
Revealing for those of impetus,
Time's universe of questions,
Those raised textures of joy's essence,
The sensorial pleasure of existence immeasurable,
Realizing matter survives,
Even after bodily demise.

How comforting…

How fulfilling,
To think slowly,
To nurture one's duration,
Staving off acquiescence into
A short-ride on life’s fast machine.