The Effigy (#28)

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These twenty eight years,


But fits of psyche.


A flittering bulb:


Infinite-partial realization.


Perturbed upon birth


By DNA denigrating demagogues.


I rejected it in a fell swoop,


And have wandered through the woods


Some fourteen years now


Only to wonder


How much deeper the plunge


Should I have let my foundation


Be carved from wood that was given to me


Should I have built my frame with materials that were here before me,


Yet will never be as old as I.


That timber was not my blood-


Heavy assigned lumber burden,


No, all waters pointed deeper.


I chose promethean defiance and ignorance


Long hours dreaming creation


Sparks bursting from my fingertips


To illuminate a few inches farther


The untrodden path into the bowels of the mystery-mistake-lined labyrinth.

Created: Apr 19, 2014

Tags: changes, taoism, growth, dreams, mythology, consciousness, myth, change, poetry, tao, poem, conscious, prometheus, labyrinth, psyche, aging, society, birthdays, non-fiction, free-verse, birthday

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