Bleak Realities

If you stand
in the gone sense
of stillness

These days
scatter goodness
too often

Uncertainty gives body
to a measuring
of everything

To which every part
and particle
risks meaninglessness

We live in a succession
of reflections

rooted in bankrupt emblems

I feel we have lost
the will or the vision

at times

If words were true
If words come true

Poetry can reassemble
Shelter

Open one eye
at a time

This onward prick
ticking the mind by

A trick to justify
what we find worth
gleaning

Which of us is
perfect and fully winged?

I have no truck
with such a creature

but lose feathers
and settle groundward

You have to reconcile
yourself with yourself

continuously

No growth is final
Only initial