for years and years, there is only light, too much. but slowly and louder, today and tomorrow, the music spins. in ballet whirls, in sparks and slivers, curve ribbon slashes, in ebbs and flows, in perpetual motion, blood and tears, with no direction, but inward and around, in no purpose, but the rhythm of the sound
sooner or later, the harsh endless light has changed, from boring to rich and intricate, the pattern is laid, the ground glows ready, to freeze the best display, as life
now this ground is sacred, no trampling, no teeth, until these hands have tugged long and deep, to pull this seared image out, increase a dimension, and allow, touching
and all the reasons come crawling, sentries out and about, fearful and loud, ominous in their shrouds, demanding a silence, swords drawn and trembling, spawned without mind, snarling to be sure, the pattern is safe
the new dimension was pulled off, the castle a dream came true, a fountain in the garden, a kindness in the breeze, a couple of sentries dozing, a watchdog at ease
but the reasons kept circling, vile weapons on the loose, threats chained to smiles, force dug deep inside, the reasons still demanded each wide-eyed visitor, in a wheedle, cotton thong, a poor imitation of song, you should, you must, you want, you need
and a listening philistine noticed, the discordant chimes, the yapping at the heels, doomed curious to ask,
why this proxy addiction, to a favorite delusion, why must you make it mine?
why not simply call off your damned reasons, and say, I want
no reasons ever understood a why, the philistine was silenced, the castle quiet, the reasons flung adrift, without their favorite lie
no destruction burns grander, than when reason pursues light, searing and slowly, the castle melts back into flat lines, the light too blinding for ashes, but enough for the reasons, to dissolve back into the forge, happy to have been alive
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