DWELLING IN THE DARKNESS

Dwelling in the darkness, is a necessary part of catharsis. Logging on to read parchments, for knowledge - I wanna trees not forest.

The garden twists and branches; ‘Who’, ‘what’, ‘when’, forever dancing. Where ‘why’ never finds any ground and labels abound in makeshift answers. Contradicting. Telling ‘em about how losing's winning.

I got a pal who rejects Chomsky coz he claims he protects the illusion. An’ how obviously he’s not honest, only out to invent confusion.

That’s the darkness. A cathartic path that passes back to plant: one seed, one tree; you can’t see the sea bathing. So bask in the primacy of time spent combined with divine privately.

S’why I see the dark’s kind of enlightening. Face the farce and smile at challenges. Balance inequity, trying to reach out to hearts with love. Man, manage the mystery: in the dark before dawn - a light harbinger.