I decry
the thermite lies
fueling wars
burnt on the papyrus
of smoldering covenants.

They serve mooncakes
on plastic plates
provided by connivance
through political contrivance.

Nor can I ignore
a history that bore
the men destined
in their descent-
to pass on the diadems
bred in dynastic consanguinity.

While others lay slain
in the wake of a potentates' war.

The sod is older,
sown with hearts
growing colder,
in days encased
in icy apathy.

Some share the cages
of inadequacy,
accumulating faults and failures
in meaningless summations.

It's any number's nightmare
when compared
to the standard deviation
still lurking
in a crystal ball.

But humans are not numbers.
One can never be
just a fixed number's mean.

Like protons and electrons,

Most of us just want to co-exist,
joined in ionic or covalent bonding.

And some are independent-
shining brightly,
like electrically charged Neon
that stands alone and never bonds.

Yet, all will feel the vibrating energy
with each breath-

And our existence
is the experience
of life and death-

Like networks confined by
conduits and circuit breakers,

Where even static electricity
can preserve the potential
of a spark.

Love is a light
that initiates
the first pulse
felt in a heart.

Love is the sum
from the one
holding your hand
when you die.

Love is the escort
of a journey's soul
to a place of open windows
where no one ever says goodbye.

08/11/2026

Posted on 08/11/2026
Copyright © 2026 Clara Mae Gregory