The Misunderstood Genius

On motion, desire, and the eternal spiral of those who can change

Alanis gave us Jagged Little Pill
and the world swore it knew her.
The next album came,
and some said she’d lost it.
No — she’d moved.
Genius is motion,
and motion leaves the comfortable behind.

The misunderstood genius
is the one caught in God’s gravity —
spiraling faster,
burning through shapes and names,
drawn by the soul’s true body of desire.

I’ve learned to cherish
the ones who can change,
who can meet me again
on higher turns of the spiral.
Like two strands of a living helix,
we drift apart and arc back together —
each crossing a reunion,
each space between
an opening for evolution.

⁙
I have been
architect of taste,
builder of living code,
guest at the tables of art,
pilgrim to the desert of fire,
keeper of ecstatic nights,
poet at home in the quiet.

Each true.
None final.
⁙

Desire is the soul’s rarest body —
the force that bends lifetimes
toward the Infinite.
It moves like light through the aether:
a straight ray
wrapped in spirals of magnetism.

Life moves this way:
not in circles,
but in a rising coil.
Each return,
a higher floor.

Be the river with me.
Be the spiral, the chord, the arc.
Turn, rise, become —
and when the music carries us onward,
we will find each other
in the next turn of the spiral —
changed,
recognizable,
and expanding into a brilliance that keeps widening.

⁙ This stanza appears in the full unabridged version but does not appear in the 90-second radio edit.