this is the tale

tall and crisp and crumbling at the edges. worn and burnt, it's stood the test of time and fire. it whispers the ambiguous, coexisting truths. it wails in the desert confounded ultimates. it sings and swirls, it never spins. it gathers up, it cuts and widens, it divides. when you are calling out, it comforts. when you are fat and bored, it tugs. no one will ever understand its fullness. no one could ever look into the light, except through blood-stained glasses, red-streaked robes. what is asphalt and sidewalk? what is concrete? what is brick? what is plaster and plywood? there is nothing but children of all ages, grown or gone, or crying out to emptied parents, "look at me! look at me! watch me, Mommy! watch me Dad." love me, listen to me. like me, talk to me. take me places, teach me things. ask me questions. sing me. sing me to sleep.