FicWad

Yo, what’s up in the world?
Energy swirled, like Superman, blurred.
Sound, like electricity,
’Tis pure simplicity, if thou’rt down with the free.
Know, what I’m talking about?
Stop not and shout, for we art way to far out.
Time, the patient turtle of old,
Canst tell the way unto Cold Mountain’s lofty summit untold.
If, ye just don’t know
Where thou need’st to go, stop and ask thy shadow.
Or, whilst journeying,
Follow one seeming to know whither they art going.
Roads: there and back again,
To here and now from then, scenic route to Cold Mountain.
Strange, the inner vision,
Seen as if thru a prism, empty glass full of mysticism.
No, thing risked, nothing gained,
Staying out of harm’s way: thou must dare to seize the day.
Light, mixed thru striped shadow with
Five times the color and depth, and feline eyes of pure absinthe.
Just, like electricity,
The Path most resistance-free, of sound, to the power of three.
To, Cold Mountain, wind-swept,
The journey of ten thousand miles beginneth with a single step.
Space, ’tis in thine imagination.
Maketh no expectations; the journey is the destination.
Ka, like a quantum equation,
Thru its warped convolution, findeth its own solution.
Life, an ancient riddle,
Solved little by little: if it worketh, don’t fiddle.
It, repeats itself down the line:
Giveth it some time to let the path unwind.