FEATHERPULSE

Concrescence in auspicious autumn's august, aimed at infinity,

acquiescing in earnest erstwhile amber winds,

shifting and whispering to ameliorating condensation,

evincing the aim of contortion's innocence,

a happenstance of disregard,

the hub of civilization,

corrupted by the salience of intersecting divinities,

determined by myth and faith and fate,

and the completion of compelling histories,

divined by the internalization of integrity,

born to bare the symptomatic urgency of a delimited decoupage,

cut and paste generations determined to oust revolutions,

keeping sanity at a smooth pastiche of whim and internalized eternity,

ever more the fathomed wellwork of amateur expertise,

paraded as the emancipatory,

there is a place between intervention and determination,

and the vessel of hope is aflutter on the featherpulse of the wind,

where we falling glide to perch on the tree of wisdom,

wisely uprooted by the storm.