We reach out to the universe
Through thought or prayer or ritual
The need for explanations
Is human and habitual
Impatient to unfolding life
We harvest much too soon
as changing as the currents
’round a newly freed balloon
Suspending expectation
but trying just the same
May float us to our freedom
up above the mortal game
Formatively we stumble
clinging to our walls
though we’ve come so very far
we look back through it all
Various ruts and gutters
in which we have spent time
Mountaintops and villains lair’s
that we did somehow climb
Those things over and under
we forget we’ve overcome
when we see the world before us
and what’s left to be done
The Mewriginal 