Insurgent

“Speak Up,” I’m told,

“Perhaps you’ll be heard?”

But no matter my muttering,

no matter my “Excuse me sirs,”

no matter my screams!

No faces swivel in my direction,

with smiles and recognition,

“Yes, I’m here.”

No arms reach out in greeting,

“How do you do, my name is….”



So I don’t speak up,

I don’t!

Not to anyone,

But I nod at the tea party,

at the park,

at the schoolhouse,

at the pub,

at work,

and mutter some nonsense like

“That’s wonderful,

where will you vacation

next summer?”



But do not be confused here

just because I no longer,

“Speak up!”

Like a mosquito I’ve evolved

by feeding off my hosts

Who idly fill my ears with all I need

to know

to test the waters.

Soon fears will begin to itch

thoughts begin to buzz,

and blood begin to boil.

And I will be there;

they will hear me screaming,

“Revolution!”

A gathering place

White snow spirit;

sky blue, leafy green, black dirt,

placid lake, rosy sunset spirits,

swill my soul in your eyes,

and reveal to me your wisps of vivacious energies

vigorously gathering deftly

to sparkle, shimmer, animate,

bubbly, boisterously, bravely fascinate

every yarn, filament, grain

of my being.



Wise old withered Maple, Fir, and Cedar tree spirits

sweeping windy, slapping grassy, singing sun spirits

slide into my meandering thoughts,

twirl downward into my rot

throbbing, aching, yearning

for your calm, collective, peace giving

biting, blazing, breathing, thunder booming bravely

into and out of my soul

like the bloom of spring

blossoms from winter

and the quivering marsh, lumbering lake, shivering snow spirits

gather among all the others

for a celebration of everyday life

that ceaselessly rides forward

clutching, grasping, clenching

the futures theater

tirelessly acting

the scenes to come...