The wind
it talks, you know
it stirs your soul
and whispers softly
into the depths of yourself
"Here is the mystery,
here is the point where all things
are born, and all things die.
Before existence
there was I.
After death
there I am.
I am your mother
I am your father
I am you."

Skin pinked in the August heat
Thick with sunlight, we sit on the patio
One ordered a Manhattan
Another that local ****-in-a glass pilsner
The typical name dropping
Of “priest so and so” and
“The one I pretend to be my close friend
but we never talk about anything real”
Place cards adhered to locations
Cabins, sports and Disney vacations
Dreams that make up the American childhood
Those women are always a little louder
Those raging extroverts
Social club doorkeepers
Definers of the status quo
If they never had kids
Who would they be?
In their six bedroom homes and
Forgotten memories
Of why they said “yes”
Talk faster!
The topic just veered to the left
Tacky dangling earrings shout—
"Follow the prescription of happiness
I can’t hear you and I don’t want to!"
That sun just kept beating down
Nodding and smiling at vacuous words
I started reciting song lyrics inside of my head

***** soles of ***** feet
caressed by changing grounds
hard and soft combine
into the whirling images of my eyes
through rainbows
of fresh green
harsh grey
sand and dark mud
and surrounded once more
with rippling hues
that cleanse me of the day
i bury myself here
above and below
clear waves own my lungs above
the saving force from the blue below
i am saved
i am lost
wanderer of the city streets
and quiet country roads