So to avoid the sin of self-awareness
let's all pretend to humor our pretense
and tend to honor unimagined image
to stave off pain of starved, unknowing sense.
A trick of our psychology, perhaps,
to act one stage above our comprehension,
to delve through gray loose waters, unadmitted,
handshakes bound, to bridge; say, truth-suspension.
We live entrapped in light, bejeweled cages
which succeed in simple structure, but forgo
the weight of truth, and so we are, precisely,
but songbirds, self-taught - can this thought be so?
I'll smile on your thoughts, so smile on mine
our benefactions all will shining show
Our grins will shear the fog, oh, just assume,
As sly and scything death brings mortals low.
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This poem is a reworking of Kevin Murray's piece "So Shall." It was done with his permission as a challenge for our "mentorship." He gets credit for the original creative idea, though all the words are mine.
