Poetry can be the bliss that dives into inner truth. Where are we going, again?;-)

Here is some poetry dedicated to the changes in the world and The  United States of America.

White Fabric.

Some of us will end up standing,
holding a white fabric, and the so called dream.
Because the words made sense, and the feelings ringed true,
whether we ever glimpsed at it or not.
An empty prayer to walk with,
no place like the home I've never known.
The promise of enlightenment in
pursuit of colorful happiness,
but through the sound of laughter in
our gift of free will, there is always a whisper:
"Apathy is no longer going to save you"
A new vision waits in the dark, although subtle, ready
to burst into the small opening of the fragile egoist.
A Life given now is returned.
Life abandoned is sold.
And the dance of our lives breaks
through all common bond.
Common, not binding anymore, makes
love a thousand different offerings,
in the meaningless of it all.
A prayer born by clumsy dancing,
by the glimpse that we've missed.
A prayer that spreads throughout the
stains left uncleaned.
Ripping the carefully sewn.
The shallow mind locks,
eyes closed, swallows and sleeps.
While the wind blows,
white fabrics in the air.
Claudia Nodal