Ode to Mckaila Ferguson

Seven and three thirteenths of a moment off the time that many call ‘now’,

Lives will have changed.
Imagine the seven and three thirteenths moments.
Full and beat out in a rhythm
sixteen and one half
percent slackened off that thirteenth chime.
Imagine the pulse.
Stronger than that
of three thousand seven hundred and thirty one
human hearts.
Lives will have changed because of the mere reading of this piece.
It shall cause us to feel instead of read.
If you can feel the beet,
You may continue.

A world of doubt,
Shrouded in the pain of centuries lost.
A world of cynicism,
Lost only to be found.
A world of thinkers,
Here to fix what isn’t broken.
A world of love,
Etched into our hearts, deep. So deep it almost hurts.
But what else is there?
We love; so hard; it can be dangerous.
A world of friendships.
Whole and pure,
Like the fires that roar behind each of our eyes.
We may choose to embrace what is there,
Or we may choose to look for more.

A world of happiness,
 An ideal.
Strong.
Stronger than that of thirty seven and nineteen twelves
of grief we face.

A world of Pain,
Here.
Numbed by the ideals of imagination.
A world of hope,
Gone.
Gone like the wind that used to blast through our hearts.
But that wind is not all gone.
The world of hope,
Hangs on for dear death.

A world of sense,
Is a false reality that is,
As nonexistent as the truth that hasn’t been uttered.

A world of harmony,
The world of them all.
Cannot exist.
For as long as there is doubt,
There is trust.
And if there is cynicism,
There is optimism.
Love will never,
Be without hate.
Thinkers,
Never without doers.
Friendships,
Cannot be without those odd acquaintances,
That mean nothing.
For Happiness always moves,
 With sadness.
Pain will never be found without,
Healing.
Given by those who care.
Hope is not without,
Darkness.
Sense is never,
Without nonsense.

And Harmony,
Is never,
Without,
Chaos.

Chaos like the words strewn out

Across these pages.

Chaos like the explosion of poetical,

Theoretical,
Non acquaintable,
Similetical,
Metaphorical,
Truths exposed.

I do not know the implications.

Nor do I care.
All I know is that,

Seven and three thirteenths of a moment off the time that many call ‘now’,

Lives will have changed.