Drenched in dirt
and kerosene ,
I'm becoming

Drowning in
erratic waves
and deep breathes,
as I reach the
tides at sun down,
I'm becoming

Climbing the peaks,
riding the waves,
answering the
call,
searching
in the void,
I'm becoming

a fact of birth
celebration
a shared joy

a fact of love
mercy
eternal life.

there is an old woman who sits by the stream
watching the seasons come and go

she wails for her children
lost to the city lights.

For it has been
Time,
Who's sudden coincidences,
Her glaring indifferences,
Which in the grand
Model count seconds
As the smallest
Increment,
Has failed to account,
Whether by years or
Decades, centuries,
All history,
That the perception
Of reality,
Is always
Late.

Your breath
a prayer in water, when
vision fails.

Life will treat you
in beauty, when you were
ready to meet future.

Like touching god's
feet, to smear the lunar's
dust on fore heat.

The journey never
ends. Bright stars beckon to
you, but you will not
find Miranda.

The fever was mystical.
In delirium you will recite
a poem.