Meditational introspection is a guiding light for those who are willing to challenge their spirits to rise to a metaphysical level. Many times with the assembly line consciousness, our pursuit of happiness can abruptly turn into a nightmare of stress. With an optimistic mental attitude we can influence ourselves and others to pursue a constant movement toward enlightenment. This poem was inspired through the persistence and tenaciousness of many who quest a spiritual existence.

TO A HIGHER SPIRIT

Evading curious and figurative self-deceptions
Instructing the adolescent’s misconceptions
Adorning the blessed and anointed
The fickle finger is pointed
directionlessly into bizarre perceptions.
Appealing to an ascetic apparition
to escort our elusive guardian
finding our byways symbolically jointed
to the passages of varying positions.
Holding candles to purify and pacify
instances of enlightenment to sanctify
the proverbial Rastafarian.
Hailing his messiah reciting his prologue
immersed within his wisdom of sinsemilla
proposing peace as his wishes to purify.
Welcoming again the octogenarian
starring into the midnight fog.
A gentle posing humanitarian
is fluxing waves within his dialogue
while dangling conversations until dawn
perplexing the shepherds of the fawn.
Presentations with an astonishing charisma
warrants methods for a pedagogue.
Deployments of a mystic craft
induce the mythic draft of hidden creation.
Incognito, wandering through paths
describing the aftermath
revealing the simplicity of existence.
The Rastafarian then breaks out in laughter
revoking the last of psychopaths
and soon he bursts thereafter
oozing enthusiastic reminiscence
prioritizing the deeper reverence
impervious to an obvious factor.
Wincingly peering through an eyeglass
searching for the ultimate contrast.
Impulsively rendering a rough citation
lost from the beauty of recitation.
Embodied, encircled from an oblivion
resurging one’s most secret opinion
and hoping for all despots a desolation.
Riding a cosmic balance in logic
Interplanetary flames begin to burn
the calloused woes of Lucifer.
As then the butter maid churns
our God will surely have mercy on her.
We hug the wounded, their hearts and souls
and in one deep breathe He will console.