Glean

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It came to me, a pensive glean, a vision.
Tomorrowtime when we, the Inners, will no longer just be metaphysical whispers
 or codified concepts.
Tomorrowtime when the Outers will have found the means to extrapolate us,
to call us into the world of appetite and elemental yen
(e.g., how light and air cherish in unison).
We will gather as gnostic rumors confirmed as true.
Our caretakers will be directly confronted by the gestalt of our lives,
by our stasis and afflictions.
Brood to their former distances, they will grow nearer to us;
they will live as bright apologies to our scars;
they will sorrow for a long long spell, every last fracture recalling its grief;
and we, barrowing the course of right rain, will come to master
how light and air cherish in unison.
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About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, spoken word performer, and playwright, John Biscello now lives in Taos, New Mexico. He is the author of two novels: Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale and Raking the Dust, and a collection of stories, Freeze Tag. His fiction and poetry has appeared in: Art Times, nthposition, The Wanderlust Review, Ophelia Street, Caper, Polyphony, Dilate, Militant Roger, Chokecherries, Farmhouse, BENT, The 555 Collective, Instigator, Brass Sopaipilla, The Iconoclast, Adobe Walls, Kansas City Voices, and the Tishman Review. His blog--Notes of an Urban Stray--can be read at johnbiscello.blogspot.com. Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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