here on the ground

here on the ground

we live in an age of limitation

voluntarily clipping our own wings

daily

yet . . .

we dream of flying

which now resides

in the shadows that haunts us

as memories

of our greater selves

we were fashioned of that ilk you know

we are but mini Gods

who have chosen to live

or die

in perceptible slowness

vibrating our magnificence

in secret

that no one may know

our souls struggle

against our consciousness

as we abate

to relate

to the sedated ones

fixated on belonging

i think

don’t blink

for life will pass you by

again

in this eternal blossom

which holds to no end

cycles are but that

redundant passes

of that which has been

but we like games

don’t we

like Monopoly

we live for that passing of “GO”

to be temporarily sated

with a mere $200.00

you know

i smile at my self

and the me i see in you

as we acquiesce to some unknown belief

and convince ourselves

it is righteous

to stay . . .

here on the ground

© 14 April 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.