Epiphany of Wine
What do you do in an irony of a thousand words
I have passed the epiphany of wine
I am high on Bordeaux. What luminous nonsense!
We are not defenseless; we are only unarmed.
Pressed by the hands of a mob?
In obscurity lie the incandenscent brilliances of undiscovered genius.
Far from the sheep; farther from the shepherd,
Lost in hills that are vain in their greenery,
Caring only for the observance of souls.
And emerged on its other side.
Deceptive clarity in the night
Staining my lips red with its sympathy
Causing me to strain at bonds that do not hold me back.
How long? How long? Shall freedom bear its grudge?
Shall shackles endure the swallowing of their key?
Shall existence prove itself in the mastery of the night?
When the bonds of sanity loosen,
Allowing inspiration to advance tendrils to our conscience
We are freed by the purity of uninfluenced idea to distill
Meaning until it vibrates thru the ages.