Cyclic Poem by Josh Terpening

Stammering, a contorted mouth with many questions
Captured an ancient verse to stamp on my thigh
Or on heart inscribe.
It is beyond me, the weightlessness of a needy newborn,
Swaddled in current conditionings to crush infinite possibilities.
The cyclic circle, the progressions concedes
And continues carousel-like, vague descriptions, misinterpreted meanings,
None can relinquish conclusions. There is no stopping
The perpetual motion of what will be … infantility.
Instinctual murmurs for more
Insatiable wants swallowing just enough of the needs,
Opaque in the fringed frailties,
(the toddler reaches out to touch the mother
with an intuitive knowledge blooming that she is the outlet of answer) .
Visible, long delay of still premature digestion of solid food
And mental nourishment
New eyes glistening and I am listening to the pain-soaked screams
Of dull teeth sprouting.
By now the formulation of an unfrozen language is swirling
And floating upon a green sea of desire.
Clouds take shape and the child learns the names of them,
Even the rainbow is veiled in its separation, this one is red, that one blue.
Every word is a thought, every thought a hue.
The unfolding of time, rose petals fall away.
A new view after swiped eyes widen,
My vision shifts, a golden scale tips, scars once scarce
Now abound around an aged heart resistant to correction
And hesitant to rejection.
Just a single sunbeam can redeem the decay of yesterday's dream.
No fierce, mad, crooked spasms of swatting reflections
Pronouncing rippling waves glistening, gleaming, shimmering
By sacred light of an aged soul settling finally
Encircling all too humanistic tendencies to grasp divisive insanities.
In the corrosive wake, the sage's wisdom
Has effaced the sufferings of middle-aged scientific methods.
Trial and error yielding practical magic,
A minefield free-swept, debugged, clean awakening.
The light of life resurfaces laughing on a wrinkled face,
Misidentified and nameless,
Gravity plucks silver and white, a jesting reminder of physical escape.
Toothless drooling and silent, the body leaves in paralleled unison
With its arrival.
The dried eyes close alas
Cold desiccated release glorious exhalation, the breath
Returns to its source.
No thing is wasted.
This trip begins completely finished.