PARADIGMS
I dream and the world wakesbut who will dream me?
for rubics, menes, unattainable ideals
Sometimes in a crowded room
there is a murmur
that s u s t a i n s
but will not abide a sharp glance or word
logic carried on too small shoulders
too wide a stage
too brief a breath
bludgeoned Gods and Goddesses
into silence
irreparable and irremediable
I walk home
hopeful yet of danger unimagined
goals undreamed
wine unspilled
but arrive safely anyway