Syncopated Thoughts

Though 100 angels,

can sit,

on a pin,

barely one will fit,

in between,

the hair's breadth

that separates,

Desire,

from Passion,

Hope,

from Freedom.

When I think that I can have,

That for which my heart has yearned,

A snake invades,

A monkey grasps,

As tiger roars,

"Mine!"

Ahh Goddess,

Immolate this Desire,

and rescue Passion,

To bathe in Grace,

Return to Bliss