Wordplay April 2 (From a Woman with the Strength of Hercules who found love...in me CH)

Reaching into my pockets,
Empty,
I grasp the full meaning of nothing and everything,
For though, as I’ve said before,
I may not be rich,
But surely I am the wealthiest man alive,
For from me springs truth, conviction, inspiration and love,
And what more do we really need? Thus,
Call me the emotional Carnegie,
Whose baggage,
Though heavy and burdensome,
Is daily growing lighter,
And like a feather,
I will fly.

Unpleasant these moments,
Those have sunk me into the deepest pit of despair,
And yet,
These mixed emotions are tempered, tempered in an unrelenting faith,
That I can and will emerge from this tumult,
Liberated,
Free to roam,
And hopeful that I can take in,
The sweet breathe of spring,
The delightful sweet caress of grass,
And the swooning song of birds in flight
Filled with delight and renewal.

Electric,
Each sensation that taps my soul,
And begs me out,
Into the world from which I disengaged,
Feverishly contemplative of the state of man to find some answer for ME,
my veins flow with the wisdom of the ages,
That at present I cannot comprehend,
As my emotional Rosetta stone is missing fragments,
That would easily explain,
This path I am on,
Yet easy, is not always best.

I have become death, the destroyer of worlds,
Countless creations of ego and id,
Longing to create,
That perfect picture, though perfect it can never be,
For I now know I am always to be a work in progress,
And have works progressing,
And it seems, that I can find solace,
In that recognition,
At least for now,
As I have realized I am the Coalition of the Willing,
Willing to roam,
Willing to try,
Willing to fly,
Willing to surrender to years of anguish,
Before in this spring,
I am born anew.

My greatest joy,
An unconditional love of humanity,
Though I must accept,
The fact that the imperfection of our lives,
Is the grist that makes a man of boys?
And a beautiful woman of little girls,
Desiring that we all could stay in that land of innocence,
Of playground tag,
And sandbox love,
That for every laugh,
There must be a tear,
For every fear,
There is a conquering faith,
For every sadness,
There is a flower in spring,
A snowflake and rain,
For life truly is one equal and opposite action after another,
And my action now,
Is to allow,
Gracefully,
My subconscious to join the Neanderthal,
So that I might stand erect,
Tall and proud,
Acknowledging flaw and fault,
Gift and greatness,
For I am here,
Alive,
Restless and wandering,
Into the hitherto unknown,
Fighting all the way,
To the world I long to know.
Don’t you want to know?
Dream with me!

SDM