Mud

Plunge with me,

Into the deep.

The Call of green,

Encounters a great heap.

The thickened and pulling,

Comes greeting thy eye.

To seek vanquished anguish,

A choice we seldom cry.

The path is appalling,

Each step heavier than last.

Footprints filling with layers,

Leaving thy vessel an outcast.

With every new turn,

Comes questioning rain.

How can the beautiful,

Share handshakes with pain?

Will I ever bear witness,

To new soft land?

Is thy mind’s aim crooked,

Are we running circling demand?

But… the soul... always whispers,

Its voice carries throughout.

The path may remain long,

But the sludge diminishes doubt.

Grabbing a nested branch,

I carefully reflect.

How a single beat becomes thousands,

A thought we easily neglect.

A gasp of wisdom,

Dries the crude rigid wrath.

I fulfill the steps before me,

And continue, the plunged-path.