Break it wide open like a piñata.
Break it wide open and don’t look back.
You were meant to be here and then you were meant to be gone.
We’re all illusions as the audacity of hope cradles us from the cradle to the grave.
I got down on my knees and prayed.
Don’t even know who I was praying to or what I was praying for.
The pressure on my bent knees felt good as I lost myself in beatitudes of rumor.
You were a dream come true right from the very start.
A Dylan song that knows no limits and always believes in itself.
I remember the first time I heard “Hurricane” on the radio. By the end of the song I was covered in perspiration and felt like I’d gone fifteen rounds with the champ.
Break yourself down into the smallest pieces and parts.
Break through the social injustice of always being poor and the small mindedness of another status quo that has gone belly up.
You must follow the Star of Bethlehem as far as it will take you even if you are extinguished like a candle’s wick in the process.
We’re all striving for a higher consciousness even if we’re unware of the divinity flowing throughout us like red Corvette corpuscles hell-bent on making it to their wedding on time.