by Niklas Lollo
we are the dilettantes
dabblers of the first order
we are uncouth, witless and
as we strive towards the heavens,
that shimmering splendor,
we shout without witness
and all the while our feet are burrow’d
the dirt, still rooting us
we are the dilettantes
we look up and away
to one side and the other,
and we develop
many dimensions of sides
each of which we gaze at with wonder
and all the while we are looking
our eye-windows remain shuttered
but we are the dilettantes
so our limbs feel
and we pour forth clumsy
we know our eyes
would only hold us back
so our hearts unfurl gallantly
closed all the while, those gateways to
the mind; that browbeat of creativity
we are the dilettantes
we sprout without query in our hearts
content to be free from an end and all paths
and we cherish
the beams of light
that do touch upon us leaves of grass
and all the while we millions upon billions
beckon for more nevertheless
we are the dilettantes
us wild, us many
the eternal and the chosen
we sprinkle our amorous grandiloquence
towards, there, out
alive and emanating light from within
all the while seeding the world
in the praise of the living
Niklas Lollo left to get the groceries one day and came back an oat salesman… in a panda bear suit.
