Let me dive deep into the diverse!
Let restlessness lead me
so that the world, not I, may feed me
what random tidbits it sees fit to place in my path,
so that my spirit may sit still to feast
on the sustenance in each moment’s happenstance
(despite my feet’s fitful dance).
Let every “let” here (as elsewhere)
make poem into prayer!
…because I’m not even close to there.
I struggle to find rhythm
in disjointed verse whose rhyme
I stretch to find signs
of connect between malaligned
moments’ mottled meanings…
that is, I dive but run out of air,
I search furtively for phantom feasts,
and I think I think too much.
