Traditional Forms
by Mike Monroe
The Juggernaut


one night i found a vision on the lap of the universe...

an image of a juggernaut
with a gently graceful grin
the greatest spawn of human thought
with man made metal skin

high above the ground it towered
and cast its shadow down
its mighty stomps of thunderous power
quaked the ravaged ground

inside its great gargantuan chest
wooden floors were built
where scores of wooden ladders rested
uniformly tilted

and diligently working legions
occupied these ladders
and tried to fix the juggernaut's blemishes
using ancient tools of fossilized bones

and in this dark and finite state
these drones were satisfied
content with their dull sheltered fates
safe from the burning fires outside in the sunlight

as the juggernaut stomped across the plain
an eternal sea of grass
its scathing eyes searched the terrain
for errant minions passing

everyone not born inside
and everyone who had escaped
ran without a place to hide
across the spring landscape

the juggernaut caught most of them
and placed them safely in its chest
it stomped on those who fled its hand
leaving a flattened reddened mess

until a foot more mighty than the juggernaut�s
crushed it into a metal mass of shapelessness and
all were content to be alive as they opened their
eyes to the vast bright plain endlessly extending to the illusionary horizon
where the plain and the sky are one and eternal and
a single forever sounding note hums bright
never fading or growing monotonous and
an all encompassing light of warmth shines
heated and odorless
tasteless but sustaining
and brilliant...

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