Ocean Air (day 1828)

To breathe the first breath of ocean air
Deep into my starving lungs
As sun dips down to half past seven
I realize the tide’s becoming.
Even with my toes exposed
I find salt refreshingly tickling my nose,
Seagulls cry in celebration
And driftwood leads me forever on.
I roll my pants to half mast
And whistle to a little snail
Who’s slowly off to go out sailing
And I, my eye, to the clear blue sky.

Ode to the Clouds (day 1760)

In all my years of traveling days
You’ve been there by my side,
Led me ahead when I’ve been lost
Followed me close as I ran fast.
And when I pause to give you space
You’ve never let me down,
You’ve always shown me in animate
Horses and dinosaurs and ducks, sure!
Amidst visions I’ve of you,
Crumbling, rumbling, rambling and full.
Breaking and spitting and spinning too
To bring me closer yet, to you.
So when you are my lungs, I am all yours,
When you are so high, so far,
You are my dreams I send afar,
And when my sleepy eyes first wake,
It’s to the sky I send my morning eyes.

View of clouds forming over the east coast of sweden in the sea with sailboats

Ode to the Wind (day 1756)

Into my ears did whistle harmony
Not of my mind or in my thoughts
But wind, easy wind to fill me up
With dear, sweet oxygen.
And to my friend I inhaled in
The deepest breaths I could bring
To fill my lungs so full, I smiled.
For my liberty was brought to me
So free my mind, so free my body,
So free my soul to float on to
A cloud, where I’m with you.

photograph of clouds and air on haleakela, maui, hawaii

Current’s Edge (day 990)

I walk my freedom with long bold steps
– Passionate about underlying rocks,
Saturated in air; fluid, full, exhilarating –
To my captures edge: sin and sorrow.
“DEFINE MY PATH!” From the tops of my lungs,
Knocking at doors of suffering madness
That tied these knots upon my bare feet.
It’s a long walk along hurt’s path,
A long breath to hold, withdraw,
With destiny, located amidst rubble.

It’s a long walk to freedom,
Blistering sores and stained reason.
Along my gall’s edge I protest,
Along gall’s edge I step,
And in this path I do not quiver,
I do not shake with torrent sadness,
For to my edge [my sin and sorrow],
I stare with will, my choice and I,
Into the void, my current’s capture,
And let flow from the tops of my lungs.

The Road Home (day 221)

After the alpine air has swam through lungs
Cleaned the soul with white crystal slopes
The road home is always long

Head swarming with white untouched snow
The rest, though, indeed is glorious
Feet in the air, recounting events

Times like these create bonds
Stronger than beers, stronger than words
Remember me, lets share bliss again