LET THE GRIP SLIP

Let the grip
slip. . .

pack up,
jump ship. . .

let yourself go,
and feel the flow,

the rises,
falls,
and pulses
from your heart’s beat
and lungs deflating,
then getting plumply bulbous. . .

For,
life and love
strike up their fire
quite wildly,
from sparks
twixt our own earth so low
and heaven, so much higher. . .
and to our human sense,
in a seeming randomness,
not according to
to our calculations,
nor our proud desires,
nor even, what from
the crop most select,
which from
our highest earthly intuition
culled is.

Just as a babe
best comes to wake,
after the limpest,
sweetest sleep,
that follows suit
from the gently crooned
soft nursery tunes,
with which to sleep
it lulled is.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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