I give growth
to my own Ushnisha,
oh enlightened me!
So beautifully blessed
to mount upon my
elite instrument of grace.
Such vision is simple.
Yet, with each hand that
clings tightly to life's
knowledge, truth
escapes me
and I am commander
of my own sinking ship
professing to be so savvy
that loneliness,
my only friend,
screams how rich I am
to an abandoned crew.
I was their captain long ago.
If only for
the fuller
moments ...
less tears to profess
the square hole
surpassing the round peg --
if just one touch
for this sophisticated skin ...
I might find myself to be a
celebration of atmospheric changes
causing rain and earthquakes.
How dare I even mention such,
squeezing the glass so tight
that its shatter cuts my skin
and opens all those places I
refuse to look!
Pamela A. Lamppa
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