The Great Escapes

We’re frightened people,

People without core or guts;

We move and act by group control;

We fear everything

With funny consequences.

Our brand of religion is a chain of scapegoats,

Through it we fear to declare,

Or discuss the movements of our humanity;

Inside us our passions work,

Our emotions have ecstasies,

And our sentiments see truth.

All visions for our common survival.

But few of us will lift voice or finger

To acknowledge the best flower,

That fruit of our living flames of life,

Hiding in the twilight inches from escapism:

            We never grow up to required maturity,

            For our eyes of depth and width,

            Though active and sharp, never see,

Or face the light: the epiphany of life and –

Meaning embodied:

            We so hide from ourselves,

            Remaining unmapped oases to ourselves

And when we die,

The utility of our bodyself

Faces the lie, the fear of our unexplored self

Once so rich in gifts of joy and discovery:

Yet all left with all energy and riches untouched.

And this is the great escape.