Isms organize great thinking
into neat mausoleums,
each ism occupying its
cataloged row and column,
sealed off from change and living.
Visit a mausoleum,
and you may discover
that any original ideas you hear
are coming from your own soul,
which is not dead, nor will it ever be.
Never box me up or
seal me up with an ism.
Being always alive,
I may need to whoop or sing.
Let me breathe the breeze
until I am the breeze.


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Copyright © 1998 by Alan Harris. All rights reserved.