/lit/ - Literature

Ok I don't know if this is the place for critique but uh

Wading in the Jordan:
On weekends we leave our cars
to collapse in the palm
of green tunnels.
Our thoughts stretch free
from the battery of concrete functionality,
¼ pounder frescos,
and bought out cherubim.

However, romantic visions of
stoic conquerings and
mountaintop epiphanies
are found to be the titles of chapters.

48 hours at the will of what might be divine
is enough to correct cadence,
but then back to a narrative
novel to our biology,
and again we are versus our nature;
guilty of our molestation
on the other side of glass.

Consider:
To travel on foot,
to go out and further
for the sake of metamorphosis;
to illustrate a chrysalis
a thousand miles long.
To emerge wide-eyed and sensitive,
absolutely aware of something holy
spinning at the center of intuition.

Now with an understanding of tribalism
beyond the vague, plastic outline
of the strongest.
Having walked with others towards gold
not made of chocolate.

By wading in the Jordan
we found a promised land
also at the bottom of it.
Sinking for a decadent baptism
to be carried with the current,
still berated by rocks and tortured by freeze,
but like St. Catherine said,
all the way to
heaven is heaven,
and we are soothed by the holy music
of our humming chorus in the wash.