Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Solstice at Chavez and Chinatown

There are clearings in the grey --
Brilliant mountain gold --
Moments when I'm clear
Of definition,
When it seems that there is nothing
With more power than that flower
That's surrendered to the fence,
When it seems that I can let
The all of myself you hold
Freely pass
Like rocks under water
And see it's you, not me
I've kept inside.

But it darkens again, the grey,
And the audience turns
Back round at me
Waiting for something authentic,
Though they don't understand the words
And the dance moves are never allowed;
Being real is somehow ... entertaining.

It is black now on the stage
But the lights in the sky glisten
As I sense the power I have always had
To be wrong,
To make the world correct me.

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