March 2012


10:23 25 March in Rhyme

The slight of hand

from your mind’s fingers

is the surest proof

that your life lingers

on the smoky edges

of decision making:

Sound the call for truth

and an undertaking.


When the crowd has gone

and the spotlight burns

on the seamless sway

of your twisting turns

let the tricks dissolve

and the mirrors fall:

Truth demands a curtain call.


The stage is set for silence

the script says we’re inept

incapable and clueless

in beyond our depth

All props assist the promise:

true greatness if we rise

beyond our practiced showmanship

and perfect,polished lives.