The Late BloomA Poem by Butch Decatoria1. Remember the puppet that you were who thought himself a real boy still only just a boy remember like perusal of hate mail their postal telepathy as though flipping through cellophane photo albums of many nameless faces distant / detached / unmarred Remember how you had not known them then floating on airs ignorant / clueless / willful still constantly fair like May flowers in pebbled gardens Self sacrificed fool still only just a boy and like all in their youth selfishly optimistic a wide bellow for the wide world and untoward night Yet this life / its tangled strings (tug & pulling) with Geppetto's fermented footing precariously curious and nimble such as and / that boy was quite... agreeable to a fault happy to oblige a fly But something else also had its gravity (pride for tiger stripes) taunt there within : an invisible string to keep true be mindful be cool (nimble thimbles cool) searching but not so... "you will know when you find it you, a perpetual student" open as pouring rain always in awe of it all dismissive of the drowning barely afloat in city-scape And now a real boy living / colors / the lessons of life a dance (Kick ball change) carrying its rhythmic weight with a style & a smile always in all ways / in awe Boy refusing to grow up who's dreams are tall Inside a lotus waits to open Brown Eyes like quiet ripples A dragonfly on the pond in our pebbled garden. 2. Smooth stones pave a path for bare feet there's no use or need for dirt on our way toward peace. no ripples on the pond dragonfly wings - like glass... clear of mind tend to the life and health of our garden that is the duty of Earth's wardens a light to shed the night... although the lotus may bloom out of season, arriving late, it is the wisest of all flora knows to wait for the rain, so here we are late bloomer Lion of the southern gate of Men, looking for you ... The circumference of every pond is only valued by how deep it quenches the thirst Not those who drink... my hands are empty and what falls from heaven I will cup Love my gift, overflowing, honest, open Falling up. © 2018 Butch Decatoria |
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Added on January 12, 2018 Last Updated on January 12, 2018 AuthorButch DecatoriaLas Vegas, NVAbout"I cannot wait to see tomorrow, but I will live like--I just couldn't wait!" --yours truly "In The Church of (My) Life, Love is Worship" -- yours truly Lets101 Quizzes - Fun quizzes for blog .. more..Writing
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