A tall tree with its feet underground.
(Always listens with its arms open around.)
I see now: how a bough connects the other,
How one gives way to another,
How it spreads out with all its might
Just as so, to join others' fight;
And how
Each bears the weight of fruits and flowers alike.
My ears
can see you speak.
But solely, in the presence of the pure wind
To whom you cede your faith
And dance in the openness: that is this face.
Your roots integrated with the fallen bones
Add to your strength to hold on tight.
All the while learning from the life below
What we need:
To crawl, in the beginning of life.


"We walk because you decide not to."

An unscathed voice—not mine—
Had been stumbled upon.
With "The odds stacked against us"
Oh wait! but are they, really?
For how does a mind learn
If it hasn't lived an entire beat.

Words rearranged by your lips;
Carried by the medium called fate
Have found a home, eventually.
And though you hold an exalted tongue
And although I don't apprehend.
A grass under a tree
Appreciates a warmer shade.

Here come the formidable rains,
An air of sombreness it decrees.
With it, bringing--
Tears of the forgotten dead.
Cleansing the earth of our influence.

A rock out of reason
Was placed in front of me
I then did traverse
Since no end was seen.

And so, keeping this head down.
I heeded all the travelling feet,
Along with a few faces
That compelled me—to feel.

But now, a mistake had been sensed:
This gaze was always fixed,
On a road shaped by mortal hands.
Oblivious to the ubiquitous–hidden forces.

Not soon, did I realize:
The true bearers of this circle
Which can never be spoken to,
But, invariably, be heard.

I laid there in my eternal sleep
Unwilling to let the chains roam free
I asked of it, to hold down upon me:
Better me than a bird in flight.

And so, this mind stood dormant
In a place known—of unknowns.
With a purpose being lost,
And a faceless shadow gained.

To the rescue, came a bird—
Warbling the verses of my identity.
It lent me it's wings—
To pass on, a view from the sky.

I rose, from where I lay.
Slumber then being done with me.
I followed upon what's necessary
––A routine sung out to me—

Then on this particular day,
Trees on the outside
Beckoned with the wind—inside
No thought was then wasted

In entering a paradise
Where clouds charioted across
the sky—to diffuse the harshness of light
So that I could glance at the source of life.

Somewhere,
I've lived you.
Enjoying
the lensing of solitude,
the breeze, trees, figures surrounding
the dark grey moisture-laden clouds;
All of these ingredients,
must've been tasted before--
For you to rinse the sweetness in them
Again.