Rhythms: The Messiah “Virus” by LJ Frank

The Androgyny of Compassion

infectious

an emotional pathogen that seeps

through the veins and arteries of the head

yet brightens the human soul

with the appearance of caring

and courage

the quiet within knows

the metamorphosis is open to question

still, one must make a notation

on the yellow pad of the brain

the amanita muscaria may seduce

with a color that greets the day

yet a footnote reads – not to taste

for the alleys of the cerebellum

are lined with tiny crevices

filled with tentacles of magic

and this toadstool is not the one

that truly harms though toxic,

rather it’s the loveless charm of a paramour

like a hunter from Thespiae in Boeotia

caught up in his own reflection

and therein lies the microbe of deception

Narcissus’s gaze is a false Messiah

 a  beingness that fails to see

the blind outrage of cruelty

a self-aggrandized vision

and its consequential actions

for what, except in the name of a self-reflection,

but the hearer’s minds are numb

from the complexities of fear and doubt

should another Messiah arrive

that becomes a contagion with charismatic words

while the cross-bearers of hardship cry out

but wait…what is truth,

the hanging tree lay within the heart

brutality without boundaries

clothed in the latest fashion

but self-disclosure is a perilous journey

for who profits from their Messiah

if their personal accounts are not profitable,

until one realizes that no tithing is necessary

to be inoculated and saved

for the mustard seed is found after all

in the androgynous earth of compassion

and the attribute of the ancients’ blood

is to discern the virtue of

redemption.