I heard the loud gossip. The unremitting implacable voice that bled tyranny without a purpose. The dangling nuances floated like dandelion leaves weaving themselves intricately in the still practically still air. Soon the caterwauling traversed the Ivy walls and permeated a culture. The perceived sin was a stain and the accuser with a letter opener divulging it’s contents with savage alacrity.
Pretty soon more bees appeared humming innuendo in consonance, breeding a fomenting tide. The woodchucks were building a dam to a pent up rage. Finding philosophy, clarifying perceptions and sustaining the crackling whip.
Now the tide’s foams where churning, this mass moving forward in soliloquy followed by a sneeze. The steady hum of ceiling fans and the bubbling cauldrons of digestion echoing about. Terse abeyance with the clicking clock, this momentary lapse in a long and counterproductive day.
The victim’s penance was not enough! The dirty closet was for later and now just the poison of a sting, it’s arrow embedded in the heart. The poor Butterfly felt dizzy and the drawing of the curtain too much. This Monarch was unseated, it’s clefted speech unrecognizable. There really was no sustaining sin or the need for such whippings for the Antlers of the accuser gored with reckless glee.
White linen appeared, as a Praying Mantis praying her sublime ode with perfume and the perfunctory slap of heavenly quiet. Reckoning not with shackles but a compromised self-image, the progression of a pendulum, striking the atavistic cheek with a dose of reality. The Victim like the Swan apoplectic at it’s good fortune, humbly then cast aside the hurt in favor of a favorable outlook. Exonerated and unimpeachable joyfulness like the bells of a church chattering.
To a pastoral scene within a dream of Tanzanite Blue and the shifting sands of time to a reverence and the hand of God looking kindly, prodding, reassuring. You are safe, feel the cascading waterfalls wash away ordinary blame… Resolved…..
Floyd, Times Are Changin 