Craven Tears


What is it to see
but never emerge from the dark?

Children marvel at color,
movement,
perception,
not knowing
control mongers await them,
famished gluttons who relish
adults obviating consciousness.

Some risk emotional pain,
while too few discover
healing is not a poultice
to cover a wound.

Rather…

Restoration of feelings

require a cleansing through

listening,

viewing,

touching

the threats

urging humankind’s natural defenses

to address the storm blasts

of hollow oxygenated expressions

programmed to destroy observation's

allowance for truth or falsehood
to become naked

before sentient awareness.

Risk awaits,
perhaps muddied,
but nevertheless
always at the ready,
actuality's hardened muscles ready to serve,
to discern platitudes from profundity.

How courageous
such willingness to risk,
knowing to bandage-cover
is to embrace the temporary fix,
ignorance's wanton indulgence,
urging an anesthetized existence,

unwilling to advance…

But why?

Might it be,

those of fear

cower before possible truth,

awaiting instead inevitable emotional fissures
to disgorge their craven tears,

not accepting a simple honest tear

could be all that’s needed to

seal the disquietude of dreaded anticipation?