Poetry: 'Chattel'

When a hug becomes a cling

...a hold, a clench

...a tendency, a trench

...a feeling then a string

When what lends itself so freely

becomes what you wish to own

When the cage you find yourself in

was once considered home

So, what is willed then

of the children

who we rear and steer

who we naively hope to shield

from our insecurities and fears

When a doubt becomes a dread

...a thought, a pillar in the head

...a vision, laws for all to follow

...and others much too hard to swallow

While standing where you are 

you see all you wish to be
A lonesome star that churns afar

and yearns to be a tree

When what dances there before you

entreats acknowledgment and love

When what showers you with adoration

is insensitively snubbed,
is doused in conflagration

and fueled by your neglect

When "the best is yet to come"

because what's present is regret

"Turn then your eyes...," the Sun spoke,

"I am not too proud to state..."
"...that the darkness, just as I..."

"...is here besides to illuminate."
To see the night sky clearly 

it's best to walk the dark

to let go of what you think you need

the covetousness, desire, and greed

the bailing of stream waters

the seizing of a moment,

that's as fleeting as the seasons,

but in it's deft flow is most potent.

Sometimes the cling, the clench, 

and the trench we excavate,

are filled with fluid waters

which stagnate in such a state

And so, the very thing that heals

is poison in the well

It's tainted by possessiveness 

and lies we tell ourselves

Sometimes the fibs, so fanciful,

that dance enchantingly

before our eyes and in our minds

belie our genuine needs

They undermine our sense of presence

with veblen goods and feathered pheasants,

promises of life so pleasant,

pointing toward the mountain top

When strewn in bloom before your feet

is Life's majestic crop

And though it too will fade in time

to hug will be enough

For in abundance Life provides

that which it knows you need most of