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I have petitioned my prayers far more often than I thought.

In the wake of unblinking discrepancy
I find the lost and found bin within myself

Intensity has a way of overpowering the unconscious

Never dust your dreams from your sleepless shoulders

Tread with all caution in the realm of vanquished truth
It is there that facades of lies lay languishing

The conceptual of my reality is more than less
Yet the sum of all parts keeps lacking in design

Equality seems fabled

Pluck the rose,
Abide the thorn

Such beauty must be grasped as it allows

I stand in the windfall of winter
Summer calls my name
I spring to action
Yet fall

I have tread upon myself far too often

There are no doors in my house of walls

The glass ceiling mirrors my fate

Again my petition upon angels wings soar
Alas I now await the lambs mighty roar.


- J.G. Smith (11/29/05)