Twelve years I kept course,
buoying bleakness with
lucent faith. All of my
verses aimed to follow
the ancient prescriptive
grammar like a compass.
How readily mantra
became meaning; sanctioned
praises steered me away
from the rocks, and karma
calming methods mellowed
deep unruly currents.
But I did not see the
reef sleekly hiding there
with its stagnant questions
and lovely razor coral.
It ripped the sturdy hull
in one jarring moment...
Sound vessels lose their keels;
to write rogue lines, adrift,
implies base betrayal.
How do I dare tread the
truth, without a splendid
intermediary?
Posts
