Cary Grace Kaleidoscope
What universe is left for me?
My eyes are full of poetry,
and malediction falls upon deaf ears.
The careful archetypes I drew
are idealistic and untrue,
and all around me wisdom disappears
Into the kaleidoscope;
electric blue and heliotrope
an enigmatic envelope around.
Into the kaleidoscope;
a scintillating chromatrope
is vast beneath the microscope, unwound.
What road remains to travel now
when everything we disallow—
in entropy our vacant motion stilled.
I lift my breath inside my chest
to whisper words of my unrest—
stagnation rushes in; my lungs are filled.
Into the kaleidoscope;
electric blue and heliotrope
an enigmatic envelope around.
Into the kaleidoscope;
a scintillating chromatrope
is vast beneath the microscope, unwound.
And if I were the only one
stunned beneath the empty sun
I would not fear so much, or much at all,
but countless in our multitudes
as stars, we repeat platitudes,
and care not if we rise or if they fall
Into the kaleidoscope;
electric blue and heliotrope
an enigmatic envelope around.
Into the kaleidoscope;
a scintillating chromatrope
is vast beneath the microscope, unwound.
