What lights the fuse on dull gray days
Encased in dead routine
To set the spark within the ways,
Fire the machine?
For all of us are tied to each
To integrate the whole
Where needs and habits try to reach
And leach the central soul.
To leave the clockwork outer skin
Which functions socially
While spirit slumbers deep within
Thoughtless to be free.
What lightning strikes through discipline
To stop the clock at work,
To penetrate down deep within
To still the mindless clerk?
What trigger snaps the beast awake;
Can rouse the sleeping child?
Can energize the mind to make
It active, free and wild?
To break from out the cardboard hull,
Explode the fragments wide?
To grasp the world, sharp and full,
Release the self inside.
Perhaps a patch of sunlit leaves,
A photo old and brown
To turn to dust what one believes
And crash the temples down.