A Boon of Dandelions 6


One of those days, the kind where the full joyous light of the day before waned and eclipsed to melancholy.

Discussions in and out of class of superstructural boundaries that impress and compress, beneath a veil of peace, pushing the mind into a contraction.

Torpid, depressed longing for release from pseudo-obligations and mere expediencies.

Following the call of the Encompassing within these customary modalities…

How did the eroded trench become Grand or the silent madman transform into Genius? Where did the soft lips of some muse whisper upon the ear of an academic, “Debt is Duty, Duty is Love”?

What archangel of superior moment & fierce sword thrashing about on the Field of Being has fallen so low as to become a cherub shooting darts at the bullseye of becoming?

Mindful of how distended & unconcentrated this mind floats, at least mindfulness abides.

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