what Wisdom

Wisdom is not created out of nothing, but rather, it is gained over time and distance.
Wisdom is a memory experienced for the second time with a new perspective.

Wisdom is first spoken softly in thought and second holds the loudest voice.

Wisdom is your fears morphing to angers that, once overcome, make you all the wiser.

Wisdom is the call to take heed, lest ye be afraid.

Wisdom is the question whether your experience is new and unknown or just a memory of another time and place.

—––•—•––—––•—•––—

I haven’t found my place yet, maybe now is not the right time.

a Haze to Exist

I live on the edge of a sharp blade, suspended on my toes in a moment of constant contact with choices.

If I stand pondering each side and what lies over here and what waits over there, I’ll never get anywhere.

So I choose those sides with the most options for escape, searching for a dodecagon, always landing on an octagon.

Forgive me for being bluntly put, but, without light you’d never know a haze to exist.

None

What I saw today on social media,
really shook me to the core,
it’s a sob story, a God story,
and it made me hit the floor.

You see, a man found another man
digging through trash,
and he offered to feed him
with the help of God.

So the man with the money
took the man with none,
bought him McDonald’s
and then he was done.

Before departing, the man with enough learned
that the homeless one was dying
of a growth in his side,
and then began crying;

Oh, God, thank you Jesus,
today we both pray,
that you take this man with you
by the end of the day.

So the wealthy man rose and quickly ran home,
so he could tell all of his friends of all of his wealth,
and warn that we should all be more thankful
and blessed for the things that we have.

But what of that man, the man who had none,
did God take him to the hospital,
lay with him or hold his hand as he died,
out in the street, with none by his side?

The Evil Queen Explains

The Evil Queen sits,
ponders,
and prepares her thoughts.

I am open to criticism,
so don’t be afraid to give me compliments.

She laughs.

I know exactly how you see me,
exactly the way I imagine.

She raises her brow,
thoughts racing through her mind,
pictures.

Would you like an apple?

The apple glistens like a guillotine.

No? You and I both know,
that I really do have a heart.

She crosses her legs,
flips her hair with a sweep
of a worn out hand.

And it is exactly as black as you think,
maybe more black than you know.

The apple dances between her fingers,
as red as the first red you remember seeing.

Because of that, sweet child,
I will always know more than you.

She bites the apple to its core.