Thursday, April 03, 2003

There is a sparkle in the way
I have discovered I can throw caution to the winds.
It sparkles. Like sunlight
Does, when it filters in through a mesh of
Bamboo leaves and you squint up at the illuminated green and goldness
Of it and feel glad, happy to be alive in this breeze,
In this languid spring where the hours mosey their way along-
Only fools rush in. Yes sir, only fools rush in
And everyone else is Socrates; wise, rational Socrates
Who would think twice and never raise his voice.

The blood in my veins will not allow
Excessive sacrifice of the ego. I know that.
But a fool? A treads water in my head, this fool business,
Keeping its bobbled hat above the waves
Only fools rush in, and I can probably count the times I
Have done before I thought on one hand.

Fool, then? This selfsame blood can rush your name with it,
Whisper it through the elements, dye me in your hue.

I could get used to this sparkle. Very easily.

Mina at 10:58 PM