Be stricken,
awe at the slightest of things,
marvel at the greatest,
stop breathing,
to remember breathing,
to appreciate breath,
when it’s meant to be taken away.
Fast,
to savour a morsel,
as simple as dried bread,
or a cup of murky water,
Walk,
to, remind your body,
it has to take you places,
beyond the confines of comfort.
Be broken, be mended,
be full, be apprehended,
be amazed,
that you can still be amazed,
whilst others are fogged up,
in a haze, in a maze.
in a craze, in a daze.
Oh these days, oh these days,
the neglecting of the way,
monotony,
into the abyss of being,
engorged in normality,
triviality, superficiality, conformity,
and you miss,
the enormity,
of the fine and tender,
of being stricken.
Be taken,
awaken,
to a grasshoppers song,
as you sit in summer afternoon traffic,
frustrated,
polluted,
by severance from your environment,
convoluted,
unaware of the beauty of silence,
instead being attracted to the outward violence.
And the world is violent,
when you won’t allow yourself,
to be stricken,
amazed,
blown away into the winds that want to pollinate,
to allow seeds to germinate.
Don’t wait until it’s too late,
be stricken.
Find the beauty of complication in simplicity,
and the simplicity in complication,
so you can be both the artist,
and the scientist,
the poet and the physician,
the healer and the warrior,
be stricken by it all.
W.E.
lonerloaner 