Master of None in the Spoon Sun
I never meant to malinger
But I’m stuck staring at the finger
That points to the migrating moon
While the hand grips a silver spoon
Obscuring the numinous night
Reflecting cold luminous light
More blinding than the sun’s
Counted as one of the lucky ones
This earth could be mine to inherit
If I could ever amount to any merit
Scrambling to be so oblique
About the ethos that I seek
Struggling to articulate
What my mind won't precipitate
Condense these incessant thoughts
Unravel their half hitch knots
For a chance to ease the temporal pains
Kill the ego to relinquish the rains
Impelling wisdom to finally crystallize
In a consciousness greyed by cloudy skies
Pregnant with promises of cerulean blue
Primed to awaken in the viridian dew
But I’m stuck staring at the finger
That points to the migrating moon
While the hand grips a silver spoon
Obscuring the numinous night
Reflecting cold luminous light
More blinding than the sun’s
Counted as one of the lucky ones
This earth could be mine to inherit
If I could ever amount to any merit
Scrambling to be so oblique
About the ethos that I seek
Struggling to articulate
What my mind won't precipitate
Condense these incessant thoughts
Unravel their half hitch knots
For a chance to ease the temporal pains
Kill the ego to relinquish the rains
Impelling wisdom to finally crystallize
In a consciousness greyed by cloudy skies
Pregnant with promises of cerulean blue
Primed to awaken in the viridian dew