Glorious Stones of Troy and Avalon
(In light of 'Shine, Perishing Republic' by Robinson Jeffers)
down a snow laden path of richly paved frost - it is a
consuming entity of individuals from which I wonder where
and who the first few flakes were that made this pact.
All in well counted and exacting time it will reach its bottom
river bed, gloriously silencing itself in melting by the hand of
its own primordial constituents.
Weep and fear not, unnamed kings, for the table of nobles leaves
always room for a next, fast minded visionary to see through
the means and endless end.
Need only a drop of water; the sands of institution be shaped
once more, oh glorious stones of Troy and Avalon.
And when the glee of the young dawns once again I will leave my
reservations on the porch as an old rifle of protection.
For the beach castles are already en route to cities. They are
still just... child’s toys in my eyes; temperaments of
adolescence.
There will be little need for reeducation as the trade from
tyrant to nun would all the same be oppressive, lest I presume
the definition of a better life for all.
Rather... let’s play together in the structure we’ve so proudly
assembled and enjoy fruits for the sake of fruits’ sake.
My musing observations are content enough, for now, that
miserable understanding is always a more colorful portrait
than blind bliss.
