Fractal Enclosures

     Long now,
Thoughts on life have teetered upon the value of mushrooms,
     I am not alone in this - as everyday
I sense the bloom of those about,
     Searching so desperately The Sun.

     Occasionally in dense populations
You see the confused tentacles feeling all about
As Humanoid meandre among one another -
And even if a latch is possible,
     The tentacle rebukes contact with
Another searching, as if scared.

     Our Aura, our essence is held within a desperate state,
For a sad realization has come to play,
Insists our Fractal offering remains paradoxically
Imprisoned,
   
     'Our conditioning has written us dead,
And there our feeling woe is scared to persist
Touching another of uncertainty.'

     Time here is brief and understood -
Not now our own, it never has been and never
     Will,
Like patterns of fractals ever evolving and growing
To previous enclosures, our thoughts are 'set' a constant
Value no matter the many that work
     The Kaliedescope Theatre.

     And so forlorn states of anguish retreat
To dark territories where a certain comfort
     Never wants 'we'  to see the light,
To grasp another as if a state of life and there,
     Tears at our 'now'  understood Coward -
Keen to play an act of searching
     While never wanting found - for it is too
Personal, too bare and too naked -
     'For we do not mind our states of purgatory,
Rather than known; afraid!'

Michael J Waite - 12th of August 2020.