My Soul Doth Sing

Why would i ever cling
to so fragile a thing
as a thought?

It all comes to naught.

Wisps of mist tendered thin
on heaven scent wind
breathing life without strife.

But to defy we reify
and deify this thing
called I
right along with me and my.

Reifying magics bring on apace
a case of concreatisis in place
of Life’s seeds alive.

In cracking open concretely
does the flower jive so sweetly.

Concretizing as real is the pain
from which to refrain;
the hell bound deification
from which i need a permanent vacation.

Vacate the premises
of I some body have some thing to gain.
That way is loss
and being lost, I’ve found

upon investigation this solidly bound
and kept I isn’t there at all!
Concretized foundations crumble
and man-made houses of cards fall.

In the absence of this no-thing
my soul doth sing.

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