rhythm of the saint!

(J. kac)

& it all starts with the morning - sun creaks & brings scent & bones & niggling old creaky joints - & awake with nothing save thoughts & bird's song & cobwebs - & to traverse the same old streets & alleys & curbs after eggs - & arrive & it's there - or here for that matter - & in this moment starts that rhythm - that unjustified rhythm - one that sounds a'slight but it's so right - incessant - chomping at the bit - & a beat - a rhythmic, pulsing beat - & out come words - to pierce intellect - words that exist - words that are formed behind passion - passion from a creator - standing tall on that bench - right there - right in front of you - dusty old room - drab & compressed - with arms outstretched - with words outstretched & with thoughts outright & open - & it's then & only then that the gathering of people - like minded human beings - can all be & exist at that one time - in that one room - simply & stoically hanging on each word from a saint with such awe & calm & respect - just lingering - waiting for a click - & as dull light escapes - so the mind accepts floating words that find home -