What is the hardest thing?
A glowing orb at an unending tunnel
Flashing lights in otherwise darkness
Moments of stillness broken by reality
A whisper one still remembers
Sun so long ago
And a night that must end.
But how soft it can often hit
Like haze on a full moons glow
Orbs opening
And a bead of sweat upon thy lip.
Pain can remain
And lost within thy brow
A handful often mistaken rashly
Just as this lingering upper back kink.
For this, I shall complain
I shall write in blood
Each passing thought
That whispers at my mind,
For it is only in this exalt
My beacons of hope shall arise
And light my way
Away from these depths
I have so tread too long.
Remember that the brights of your eyes
Are the way we realize
That the answer is all around
That the truth is the sweetest sound.
For in our misunderstanding
Lost in digital confoundry,
Is a lesson we can learn
Of the value we each share.
Physical and presence bring to bear
So we can see it in our eyes
And come to realize
We are all sharing this bead of light
So consequential in our lives.
When the wild worlds awoke
A thunderous cackling was heard
Mystics remained calm
But civilians, no they ruptured
Into the great wide open hands
Of the Gods they revered.
Some, well, some squandered their money
Buying useless diplomas and
Servitude obligations.
Some fell to darkness with devices
Emitting radioactive lights
And chaotic beeping.
Some fell into wildness
Like the river in Spring
Bounding over freshly fallen trees
And moss so thick
It became a cloak for their own dreams.
There was no end promised
To the deafening roar,
No scientific projection
Or mathematical calculation
That could speak for the Gods
Who had thus become maddened.
And in the end,
Well, there was no end
For it was never signaled,
Never announced over loudspeaker
Like each modern God so famed to do,
It was subtle, and thus remained unchanged.
It was the civilians
Who had changed, too busy caught up
To notice that they had changed
And what they had changed for
Had long since been gone away.
I am a glowing ember
A garden of love
Transposed into light
Fixating on your mind
And gently reminding you
How the sun rises every day
And each Spring
How the blossoms erupt
And the bees return
To bring you honey.
There is an animal that crosses the void
It’s path is not straight
It’s nose is it’s beacon
It knows and is not afraid
And justifiably conversely
Afraid when it does not know
Just like every other
Living organism.
It crosses the void
And stares into the eye of darkness
Tangled with streams of light
That make depth hard to perceive
For it is glorious, this darkness;
The heart of a wild breath
Beats strong in the shaking embers of life.
I am a late night dreamer.
I walk the streets
With parallel universes
On repeat amidst my thoughts,
So that each turn I make
Runs parallel to my intentions
On a highway of bright lights
Though sun has long been down.
Yet I roam here
With eyes baked in sugar
That envision it all,
Right down to the first footsteps
That I know very well
Will wake me up tomorrow.
I roam here so that I can awake
With a mind full of race horses
Excited in a freshly opened pasture
Of my tomorrow which I am now
In tonight as a late night dreamer.
I am trying to get it to sing to me
Willing it with my mind
And even as I sit here calm
I wonder how long it will remain.
No sound do I dare make
For fear that it should be startled
On its mind, no doubt instinctual
Hunting for its food.
I listen to the night sky pass
My heart and orbs of light
My mind full of nature’s song
I hope it will remain.
Toulouse, my dream of maiden,
Fabric of life,
Seams of Sunshine meeting Flowers,
Crescent of the arcing Moon.
Feel the landscape of Blossom
Flowering as a wish,
For the light downy Feathers
That claim each mistake
Fall lightly beneath the big Oak tree
That protect each fair call
Like dew drops made from Gods.
This is fine
This spine
The Earth descends
And dances it’s secret
Towards the ancient seed
That glows
And sows
It’s endless womb
Encircling the mess
That crawls and creeps
That slime
That whine
And soon enough
Memory fades to clouds
And then before
The door
What more?
Creaking of the hinge
That leaks a light
Scaring off
The bunny
Looking back.