Well-intentioned Advice (Aug. 15, 2014)

Heart and brain assume their varied guises —
masks to shield and front them through the day.
Semblances that tortured soul devises
to cleave a path through atmospheres of gray.

When sounds and colors serve but to decoy
the hungry spirit panting after truth,
“the doctor’s in” is certain to annoy
when empty chair is set by vacant booth.

Passing strangers cluck and wring their hands,
certain they know the sovereign remedy.
But angry pilgrims turn to unknown lands,
seeking a space that fosters sanity.

If you would see a mind regain its might,
uncage the bird, and follow it in flight.


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