Fantasy Fasting

Between the springs and the ledge,
The mind blooms, blossoms open,
Not to entice but to breathe

Irrelevance, the wayside
Hotel of the real, not hymns
To the meaning of the springs.

Irrelevance. It’s okay
To proceed by negation
When nature affirms nothing.

We spring from mountainsides, hot
With meanings, hot from the core,
To cool in the open air.

Here, by the side of the road
Pilgrims follow to the springs
Of our selves, humanity,

It becomes clearer, bare air,
Watching steam evaporate
In the distance and vanish,

Meaning is a local thing,
Forceful but confined, a fine
Novelty, not the whole world.

We dream we are pure and fierce.
We dissipate with the heat.
Thoughts boil off into the world.

Between the springs and the ledge,
The mind blooms, blossoms open,
Not to entice but to breathe.