A Cathedral of Fire


HarsH ReaLiTy

I flick my pen in the direction of the walls and the ceiling above.

A Cathedral of Vocabulary is formed around me.

Like the splattering of paint, words fly forth from my baton.

I direct a Fantasia like chorus, full of meaning and hope.

Mantras we recite and in those moments we are the moment.

I wonder my room can contain it all, as the jumbling ideas create a cacophony.

And like a climax my Cathedral catches fire and begins to burn.

I drink my Famous Grouse and savor the warmth of the burning words.

As I inhale them they form nicely with the flavors of my whisky.

I savor both and join in with the flames.

-OM

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