Pockets of Beauty
Mr. Redacted went to a place, where all of the people remembered his name.
He was surrounded by beauty, adjacent to fame.
They thought of his needs, acted on their knowledge with intention,
designed to improve, experience approaching perfection.
The highs and lows came and went,
and in each moment
only the present happened,
while all of time existed.
Mr. Redacted went to the deep and quiet woods,
and found family.
The version of family we live, love, and we choose,
just isn’t subject to other chaps rules.
Their thoughts, while often brought up with their throat,
don’t need to matter, they don’t get a vote.
So long as intentional is done with consent,
those who dislike redacted can kindly get bent.
The joy of redacted is that it isn’t a word,
it isn’t a sound or a thought – that’s absurd.
Redacted for me, isn’t redacted for you.
No matter the language or communication that’s used.
The best we can do is choose Valuable Acts,
the happy and prosperous, kind and grounded in fact.
Reality’s better,
whatever reality is,
than any unkindness that comes from one’s head.
So do it with joy – be happy and smart
whether your brand of joy comes from brains, loins or heart.
