Tethering Poem by Shailen Karur

the tether on the mind yearns to
yank at its outer reaches:
the moorings are steadfast in their caution
conditioned by an accumulated wisdom;
and then the mind reaches into its more lax
metaphysical underpinnings in
attempts to increase its latitude.
why do I write so?
well, the ennui of the humdrum is deafening, falling
upon ears that know not any music in it -
the last resort is to feed upon visions so colorbound as to
leap up from the imagination like the flames of fire
to see and to hear is enough, I say, what reason
is there to talk, except to maybe,
write?