"A Letter to an Untempered Soul" by Eric Wayne Flynn
"A Letter to an Untempered Soul"
Unrestrained and free, floating somewhere in between the sum of it all
Did you know that there is cherry ice cream in Purgatory?
I mean, some people don't even have clean water to drink
While we on the other hand swim in it
Blessed with so much and dammit I want more
It's not enough to sustain this life, I demand a pink umbrella in an ice cold drink on a tropical shore
Somewhere where the indigenous people were slain and their spirits have become decor or ambience
Somewhere with pure white sand to curl up my toes and snap off a selfie or two
I look over, under your umbrella, and I see the envy in you
And you see the envy in me, and we compare and covet
And our tangible comforts cake up sweetly on our brains
Corroding our circuitry, our connection
Severed heads, jaws agape and unhinged, so what blows along the wind?
A story of excess, just some garbage tumbling aimlessly down the beach and then down on in
And where is soul?
It's covered, buried somewhere in the sand
Monkey see, monkey do, the untempered soul making monkeys of us man
I say, I say, we earned these excesses all in spite of God
As somebody is starving and nibbling on the crust of a diamond wrist watch
And then they buy chains and gold and bear a false cross; a noose for our collected necks
Trinkets that will weigh us down when we try to swim, as we sit here and float
Glittering in the sand, objects are empty, empty objects see nothing beyond the sky
Empty are we? Empty are you? Empty am I?
And it's only us that can become a vessel to fill the void
So we fill and we empty, make love and then destroy
And then we build it all anew, and our vicious appetites become acidic, eating up bone and marrow
And we make excuses for the procession and the common practice
And we adorn what's left behind with flowers
Thus reassuring ourselves that it's all the pretty things that can make it all right
And it's from the perspective of the rose that we watch deception blossom into love
And then it dies somewhere, slowly on a window sill, and it is then quickly replaced
And you realize you had it all wrong
Your energy was way off
You never knew love
To you it was just a sound
Something to get lost in the wind
A collection of petals, strewn about, leading to nowhere