Desire is the name of a tree
With its roots within me
And growing outward
Into the world
Its branches of thoughts and feelings
Entangling me in a mesh of relationships.

Silent is my demeanor
But my heart is a perpetual stirring
Dancing on the waves
Of my restless mind
Which I’ve come to see
Is not made for settling down.

Yet good sense tells me
The sounds of the mind
Are a cacophony
Lacking metre and melody
And which must be arranged
By truer feeling, by measure, by design.

And so, it must be understood
That to deny the mind
Is to nod to character
And it is character
Which will prove to be
A higher genius and a truer friend

But the mind is an enticer
That puts to test all restraint
And so now I ask it
What it wants
And why it does
What it does

In response, these lines
Flow out of my pen
And true to the mind
They are fluid, effortless
But drawing now
From a deeper, richer soil

“Indeed, I know just desire
That is why I exist
…To allow for fruition
But it’s only under the steady glare of character
That your desires ripen
And by law fall to the earth
As the sweet fruits of your patience.”