Epiphany with Carl Jung and a mere Rabbit

…  …   …

I sat beside that old and weary cherry tree

Gnarled and leaning like a drunken man

Put my sorry life into some sort of perspective

There is no gain in self condemnation only revival

.

I have rubbed my hands in the course dirt so long

I had learned to sense flowers buried in the shit

The crap, where horses do leap and look poetic

Like a women’s breast is charming, her skin so soft

.

I walked for miles without learning much at all

The only thing we learn is the best way to stay silent

I catch myself sometimes when I’m saying too much

The goddam illusion is broken and the rabbits out

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I have to say things though just to stay alive

Otherwise might as well be dead in the dust

Cain’t all be Carl Jung, I know, I do pick on that fellar

And he does have a contented look, like pink salt

.

Therapy, if I could even afford it might be the answer

Or maybe just to get down on my sore, sorry knees

Say a prayer to God, whoever he or she may be

Wonder what he’d say about that? – Carl Jung!

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                                                                         edenbraytoday20.02.2021