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.
Charles Cicirella
12/26/16
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