The Morning Of February 29th

On the cusp of "The Great Escape", I sense a coming dawning,

Of paradigm precedent, and slingshot de-loaded;

Not for the first time,

And not for the last.

But instantaneous change, of unfurling, imminent,

Teases me,

I know;

Sallies forth betwixt the moments,

To lick the wounds,

Of host to host--

Its fervent noshing, and gross imbibition,

Unsensed, and unshaken,

In the prime of esoterica.

*

In ebon its ploy proceeds,

In the beyond of sanction indulgency,

Where questions pour to dispersal,

And answers journey north to south:

Journeying forth, ether bound,

Somehow coming back around,

And through us to return,

Wellsprings we;

Cog-nizant channels.