She always did take everything in,
Possessing as she does
The power to gaze upon our landscape
And find a port of entry that is
Hidden to the rest of us.
She takes it all in,
Every calamitous exhale,
Every furtive misgiving,
Every desperately hushed moan.
She takes it all and sets a torch to it.
And waves the roasting embers in front of us,
Intending to sear our cataractic vision.
She thinks she can reach
Through our blurry headed
Notions and find some insight,
Some purpose, some justified end
For all the meanness that
Permeates our vision.
She finds us wearing disguises
Carefully constructed to reveal
The dry river bed of our tears,
The ragged bark of our tongues,
The slick porcelain of our skins.
Cassandra sets her sights on next week
And goes about her business of grinding optic lenses.
Such optimism can only be the
Result of chronic reverse miosis.
And don't forget the blogs at: Amarinda Jones', Julia Barrett's, Molly Daniel's and Mona Risk's.Links on right.