I’m walking with the wish
To fall into a hole
And with enough depth
That my pleas for serenity
Meet only with an echo
The circular cell
Until I sink down into submission
Accepting this fate.
Born ten thousand years ago
Learned to see the moon
Carry a fire inside my soul
Lord, I’m coming home
Sitting alone in wild unknown
Breath of ten thousand breaths
Watched a leaf fall to earth
Felt it land so soft
Walked the path till I saw all clear
Deep in a medley hole
Called moon my mother’s name
Lord, I’m coming home
As if in the ransack of time a little mouse could foresee such a circumstance, little unbeknownst to him and his furry paws scuttling to and fro about the forest floor – roots for here and roots for there, but left in a random mess that danced like bliss – as the owl hooted loud the shakey graves below the folly could tell ten thousand stories of arching madness and screaming terror; look out look out look out my friend, I have not come to be thy penance, no, I am here to hold thy candle brighter, to make thy night much less weirder, to the side of willow river and make a dart into thy deepened hole of safety and say to thy family you love them better and listen to your little mice that complain of washing and complain of chores but lead your life as you best can for times will come and leave you better beside the river and your cavern and your pretty mice wife, hither.
Whisper in a little hole
Hold a deep deep breath
Break strong bonds of resonate
Into a golden fire
Or let it gravitate
Magnetize those eyes
Ride on in a long line of sleepy songs
Brazen with a golden rod
In a tap tap world of
Like and go,
Like and go
And keep whispering
To a lost princess
Holding on to spring’s first tulips
I wonder, pacing back and forth in the middle of light,
Is there something that’s become thus turbulent undertow?
Have I designed such fit for feet of strangers?
Long walks alone in a forest captures my heart,
Where has thy sweet sun crept away to? I ask in earnest to nodding nuances,
But no answers come back, though I implore twice for free.
Meanwhile slow approaching whisps sling past in a haze of unkempt mystery
Shrouded in man-made asphalt that collects at its side big puddles
And yet my friends among the silence who stand motionlessly absorbent
Carry weight of history so thickly my stomach begins to grumble,
My breath begins to abate me, and a slow tear finds its way into a hole.
So my wandering takes me back to a place I’ve always been
A question that’s never left the tips of my heart-hole that resists coldness
Keeping my toes so at night but warming my soul into abundantly undone.
Memories have begun to leave holes
I dare not fill,
I dare not plug for fear
Night’s sky should wash
Over my visage with a mirage
I could not grasp,
Though searching I should be.
And yet I sit amidst
This abandonned students desk,
My knees hitting a cold metal bar
That reminds me
I am only here a short while.