Photo by Gigi Bousquet Williamson
Is not truer reality found in focused flights of imagination,
Spawned while safely cocooned in spaces
Where one is free to follow musings
Upon the understanding to which we aspire?
Or is it only the drone of your picayune protests
Chasing us into our soulless daily routines
Which define the practical, sane, and successful,
While culling eccentrics not seeking the same?
Beyond our stolid gatekeeper named Survival,
What are we, if not the pursuits our minds employ?
Only in moments of braggard-free realness
Can minds retool to find their essential proclivities.
I do not trust your chiding of my reflections
As moot and unimpressive.
The fusion where all pasts and presents intertwine
Charts my ardently individual map of meaning.
Empathy equates to eager disclosures on the page
Of the latest sense I have sorted,
From surrendering myself into the space still left,
Between the petty and the sublime.
Author: Gigi Williamson
Co-edited by Halsey Williamson
Photo by Gigi Bousquet Williamson