Borders (day 455)

These foreign cities that circle the boundaries of my belief
Let me understand how modern we are
How even across the world we can share some stories
And come out connected like two siblings by birth
It’s beautiful how a language can break down these ancient city walls
Berlin wasn’t separated long, just a small pox

Still, people have their borders strong in their mind
They transcend all lands with mental images
They live in thunder and lightening storms
Brewed for something that is just different
Boundless with their arrogance as they strut some more
Limited in their beauty as they walk home alone

Cars that whistle as they pass on by
Cats screeching as they flip up their tail
Prayer echoing in the late hours of the night
Bells that call to you in harmony
And all for the death of a poet
A man who never cried out in vain

Fifty Thousand (day 453)

I can see the moon here
It glows beneath this clear blue sky
Yelling profanities at the bitter and twisted
Undergrowth of fifty thousand trees
With fifty thousand leaves

The moon has something to say today
It whispers to the lawn gnomes that listen
Quietly sitting on the sun fed lawns
They hear the secrets, they know
They’ve lived fifty thousand years ago

Today I heard the moon speak
I waited silently in the middle of the lawn
It held my hand and told me of the future
I shared a story with the moon today
We walked fifty thousand miles together

The moon passed by my way today
It was beyond which I could have imagined
It was silent yet spoke fifty thousand words
It smiled and wept fifty thousand tears with me
It came and left, fifty thousand lives ago

Sunshine and Blue Skies (day 434)

Sun that fights through the window
Pouring it’s heart and soul
Onto the precious spots of floor
Decadent and proud as it blasts
All the little spots with heat
Heat and rays
So precious to our environment
That life without
Is not even possible

Rays of sunshine
That warm the soul and
Put smiles on the faces of all
Who dare experience it’s fury
The sky that it erupts from
Free from any distractions
No hue too large
No white to charge
That smile from your face
That shine in your grace

A Bird In The Morning (day 431)

The bird awakes as the dew is still fresh
Clinging to the little hairs that sense danger
Shaken at once to ensure all is still alright

Wouldn’t that be something
To set oneself into flight upon a new day
And find out too late about failures

All along the country side
The other little birds also wake
Repeating the same ritual from evenings slumber

Through the valleys it is heard
Such music that only nature can create
Like splashes deep within the forest
The birds morning is always in chorus

Perhaps the other wild animals
Rely upon the bird for mornings glory
Perhaps they also revel in the song

The Old Oak (day 430)

The old oak seems to enjoy the light breeze
As I do, flapping in the wind
Waving it’s leaves to and fro, light and dark
No ending, no until
Battling the waves in its eternal onslaught
And every single day
Each one in the cold or warm
Night and day
There is always a smile spread
Thickly across the countenance
Of the old oak

Heat (day 429)

Soaking in the heat with a slow moving fan
Flapping the loosely hung posters on the wall
Shifting the status of the sweating hairs of my head
Into that summer kind of look
Into that salty taste that feels oh so good between the sheets
Iced drinks that perspire instantly
Leaving stained circles everywhere they sit
Water just doesn’t saturate
And complications arise when movement entails
Actually moving

Into the Dusk (day 423)

From out beyond the wind swept distance
A lone figure walks steadily
Into the day I dream a bit
Of what could be their mission
Perhaps it was to seek an answer
Perhaps it was to wander
Perhaps there would be no way to solve
This riddle, even living in the shoes

The figure that I watch go
Pauses every now and then
Watching up, towards the sky
As companions keep the way
And I, a bystander, silently cheer
While the sun continues to whip
Towards the West, the horizon: bold
The light we cannot hold

For there we charge
Into the dusk
The eyes that cannot see
From here we lurk
The empty land
As the sun it cannot fill
The marching time
Shall soon present
What then shall escape us no more

Sailing (day 387)

Sailing
High up upon the alpine peaks
Like birds
Silently gliding through space
Enjoying
Every little whip of air sent

Callused
Outstretched hands pull tighter
The rope
Holding together the loose bits
Carefully
Knit into one solid piece of fabric

Little Bubbles (day 386)

Silent lights blink calmly at me
Through these eyes of rain
Drizzling away the dust stains
With deep and dark circles of water
Soaking inwards to the core
With little bubbles of vitalization
Gaining new experiences they boost
The little tiny hairs that reside
On the back of my neck
Waiting just for moments like these
To tell me how I feel

Farmer’s Fields (day 369)

At first their is a little track
At which I rush along
Then comes some wild, untamed grass
To far from the farmers arm
Then comes a fence
Barbed with a deadly glare
The field, freshly plowed
Does sit upon the fences other wing
It’s here we find
The rows of dirt
Nearly as straight as I can draw
With seeds, no doubt
For the season of growth
For the farmer to reap and sow
It’s square to him
But diagonal to me
I see it at these speeds
And after that
What ends the flat
A sprout of lovely hedges
From here we see
The story continues
In likewise fashion and theme
Into the distance
Where the eye can see
To the end and then beyond
But wait! What’s that
When I stretch my eyes
I find there in the distance
A village, of sorts
A few houses at best
But they mark the farmers existence
Perhaps it’s there
That more playful life
Also does exist