There are no impediments
in the nature of true minds.
Only souls are true
and fleshes are inhibitions.
Though sinews are all necessitated
like these tangible roads to illumination.
They are inhibitions
whether if light shines through them or not,
whether
if they are carved
with the chisels of glories
or sculpted so transparently,
or shed such capricious light
on the sandbanks
that in real, curtains inner clarity
in our shores.
True luster is from within
in the pitch of darkness,
when the limelight doesn't affect our acts,
not in the theatrical arrangements of our gestures.
The true impediments
are in the windows we purchase our arrays to possess,
to shine,
in the purity of the crystals
that are cut so perfectly
to reflect light in all its glories,
like sonnets,
though still cannot go beyond the dullness
that bedims the true irradiance with luxury
deterring the true glory go through,
from within
not from what
we put on to shine.
