The Tazmanian Bluejay: done, right? Hopefully

A hopefool monster -
an idiot, a beast
a broken man striving for peace,
attempting mindful understanding, of
scattered insights, moments, people.

A sad soul, filled
with dreams, ambitions, goals... to
alleviate the world, of...
the hell I suffer through.

A wandering soul, lost
looking for a permanent remedy  
to elevate the operating memory
into never forgetting
this truth:

we're all in this together;
even through unpredictable weather.
I hold you, like there is no other
attempting to save our dying mother.

Her will speaks to thee; can you hear it?
Sounds like it's saying - "remember me;

I'll hold you down, if you hold onto me.
As your mother, there's nothing more I'd like to see
than all my children, interacting separately
living, respecting each other
in balanced harmony :)"

Thus,
let's hold hands, embracing one another
no longer disgracing our loving mother.

When I look at you, I see no one else
aside from thy self, 'moment'arily resting
hopefully besting
the odds, the tests
hopefully doing your best, to
be an authentic version of you -

of self, in all forms;
truly, our kingdom;
this, moment;
home.

Live; humbled to the experience of freedom.
Peace.