Empowerment (day 1316)

Empowerment exists without your honorary titles,
Without conquesting rituals
Or calls to center stage.
Empowerment rustles the shoulders of every single soul
That walks along side streets and hidden passages
And log boardwalks and office sky-rises
And dirty alley and popular establishment.
Empowerment is an obligation.
Empowerment is a level flag that rises every hour at attention.
Empowerment is breath, and you’re all doing it.

Machine Gun Sunrise (day 1315)

Born with a soldier on my back,
A militarically kind of fight.
I marched for justice.
I marched with a heavy heart.
And you step on your way?
You take leave without wisdom,
And miss all these unspoken thoughts.
And if mother In Control
Makes an exit from a foolish heart,
Leave diamonds on the floor;
Take our mirrors down at night.
Truth is not in an insult!
Let’s be born again,
An ocean in the sky!
And nighttime falls
To machine gun sunrise.

Soil-Meet-Water (day 1311)

Can you make this wind so calm?
Eyes become lost amidst time,
Fall whithers deep beneath frozen soil
In an exhale from sweet Gaia youth.
Hands beneath a wool fleeced warmth
Trace aged and soggy wooden trusses
To ground all paths sturdy,
Placing soil-meet-water underneath
Obstructions aging gracefully,
With moss
Silhouetting a vista worn on the sleeve
At fogs deepest moment, neigh.

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Lemonade (day 1307)

Being able to take over the heart of an ancient soul was creating pressure within the young boys heart.
He saw wisdom, he saw truth, but he also saw the windows of time shift from opportunity to rest, from an ounce of hope to pains that lifted one awake shortly after midnight.

A silent lake was a window.
Like glass, a heart is precious; always suspended at the edges of tomorrow picturing faint smiles and implied intentions.

Here the young boy clutched tightly to his grandmothers pointer finger, understanding conscious kindness in her forever eyes that always found his quietly.
They were together often for this reason, but also her lemonade tasted like sweet nectar.
He would remember this as time would slowly reduce rations of nectar but still filled full with every bit of love.

Only mid-summer’s sun and a lazy bumblebee were present as Grandma smiled and laid her head against the sun chair, closing her eyes.
The young boy drew a shape of a heart on the dusty table top before he walked down the steps and out into the yard where he found his foot soldier, Rusty, the valiant family golden retriever that kept watch over the young boy while Grandma rested her smiling heart – shaded, but in the sun.