fever

does anyone truly wake up
and want the world to collapse
because of their cynicism?

I am disheartened at these days.
I see so much wonder.

I saw the sprinkles of dust
from gods or something metaphysical
perhaps it was fairies
the other morning
in the hushed silence of the snow.
it fell and sparkled in the orange
street lamp glow.

I wondered how impolite it would be
to taste it all with my tongue
and pretend it was some sort of
mental nourishment
for the brandished morning soul searcher.

on the way home from work
one late fall afternoon
the sprinkles from the sky took the form
of falling leaves. but they were
joyous in their song.
they didn’t mind their travels,
indeed,
I think they actually pained for them.
their cousins, their friends,
their aunts and uncles were already
joyfully piling themselves up and
whirling themselves around in
coincidental groupings on the ground.

the green ground was their bed,
and it was theirs to play and lay in.

so why
under the pressure to experience
these magnificent sights of the natural world
can anyone wake up and not shout for joy
and miracles and magic and the utmost motivation
to find fascination in the simplicity
of living?

what thunderous applause did we not receive
upon birth
to prevent such bewitchment with the world
from taking over
every moment we breath?

I suspect
my friends
it’s not the alchemy that went wrong.
but maybe,
just maybe,
too many cooks in our kitchen
spoiled this batch.

quick quick! look and see!
a new fleet is on its way out of the factory gates
and with them, a new idealism
that not only replaces our outdatedness
but feeds it with the fever
you and I need to thrive.