The Wooden Fences

It’s hard to follow the narrative
When everyone talks at once

Counting the uprights of the wooden fence
Every slat talking at once

Slat, slat, we’re all slats in a wooden fence
Talking at once

Talking to a policeman
Talking to a doctor

Talking to God’s replacements
– The system produced gods

As they trample the ground
And test the wooden fence for defects

A hewn wooden parade of slats with pointed heads
In winter and in spring they stand together

As their owners sit in their gardens
as they capture live ones and turn them into new wooden fences

It is hard to follow the narrative
Of our wooden mouths, all talking at once

The disharmonic chatter
On many levels of the mind scale

We are the wooden fences of society
We are the human barriers for the echelons

A cherub lands in the garden
He listens to the narrative of the talking fence

He has the four faces of the spiritual
He is looking North and South, East and West

He is gone back to where he came from
Back to join the protective force in the sky

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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