The Journey Inwards

Carnival toad lullaby, green bubbly bottom blues,

its slippery tongue, red, sloping, retreating in

needing to please for food, to survive.

As the music became alive in the play of the moment,

surface as entertaining to a crowd of sweat-stained hedonists,

the incandescent stone of a sun beating those empty vessels down,

mother nature’s mysteries boring them, a tragedy.

So all ‘round the freaky little thing they forced a dance, listening to it

singing at the centre of the stage,

a language they didn’t care to understand.

‘The redeeming power of wisdom,

everything containing a portion of everything,’

but ugliness is all they could see in that burping frog,

unrecognizable to them,

but eternal.