Week to Next

Well another weekend ends at the week’s end…

Another night to fly through the REM, dreamin of slam dunking the moon in the horizon and standing on the sun as it rises…

Hot feet.  Call it anticipation.

Knock knees.  Visitation from hesitation.

Every day waking, inherently celebrating the deities of the pagans

Who you think did the day naming?

It’s raining the old skies to fuel the growth of the new…

The gray is storming out to make room for the blue…

Here we are, after the cue, to herald in Sunday- call it Galactus- the start of sacred classes, and the masses attending Masses.

Cash it.

So many horses chasin the carrot stick that they can’t see they’re enslaved to the carriage.

Using their resume of thrill seeking as a license for marriage.

It’s Saturday night, soon to be Sunday morning.

Today will be but a shadow captured in the eclipse of tomorrow’s glory…

Close your eyes.

Now open.

If you feelin froggy about your dreams then LEAP- elsewise you’ll be caught croakin.

**

~The Wordsmith

 

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