Sunday, 21 February 2010

No matter how far wrong you've gone you can always turn around....

the thoughts that swarm and swish across my brow.
the songs that crush the darkness of the night
cause me little concern, nor sway
the branches of the trees in my heart.

the river it flows in bandages of loose embers
the flowers they sprout in all places, even behind the eyes
In vissitudes of walking sermons
rose petals collect upon the water.

the forest is a monument to the sun
the broken glass that sings in the city morning light
a harp that plays to all and everyone.
I see brambles in the patterns of the wind
that flutter in a glowing twilight.

The void is apparent, and is what we are,
the thought of which we may choose to ignore
for this is the game we play.
knowing this does not make it any easier
but this you see, is ok (thank you elliott dobbs)

let joy flow and ripple in the laughter of the loose
let teardrops form and batter our waking morning hearts
let the dance of time be a playground not a pension
let all authorities you create be yours (thank you tim and alan)
let the sea, the sun, the moon, the stars
into each breath of walking light
let the pavements grow over with moss
let the creatures that form in the cracks and shadows roam wild and free
let Neptune rule the spinning of clocks
let the eyes and smiles of others be a portal to the self
feel the vibrations and absorb the chaos
knowing that you may return from this game whenever you so wish,
and that it is just this and nothing more.

the ecstacies of feeling that roams the caverns and underpasses
are a creation of my very own, and of your very own
as are the raindrops that fall from the sky and salt the eyes.
Today i may die, i know this
and knowing this, i am now free
to wander
to talk
to hug
to sing
to love
to fall
to dream
to dance.

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