Friday, April 30, 2010


The words you speak
Are soft, porous, unending
Like the disheveled clouds
Spread across our
incoherent existence. We

are trapped in a maze
Amaze our minds. With
a daily drub of inconsequentials
We’ve become a habit. Now

you stomp your foot
And I tap my heart. Feel
the rhythmic vibrations. Listen
to the music that we make.

We traverse the world. Drift
back to the same place. Trace
our hearts with charcoal. As we
burn and lift up like ambers
of dead winter wood. I

melt like the receding
Glaciers in your eyes. And
you like the virgin
Rainforests of yore
Forever green, grow.

Sure there is madness
In this not knowing,
In this free falling,
In this letting go.

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