A song of new lyrics, a cup of wine
Yesteryear's arbor, old season's weather
When will the sun once more shine?

In a dream dreary the flowers fall
In garden's depth and winding heap
Only the swallow's songs do I retrace
Alone on the fragrant path, I pace.

Her lips,
indica,
leave my body,
sunken.

Walk,
as far as these feet will take me.
Moving with deliberateness,
laden with calculated purpose.

And knowing that every time each foot
successfully meets the earth,
I would always be somewhere new.

Each step would feel perhaps
unfamiliar ground,
shed new light, see fresh faces
and experience different days.

As long as I stay loyal to the course...

Always moving...
Walking,

into the sun.

my son is a better version of me

i easily break
he rides storms smilingly

i crumble in a crisis
he handles stoically

my emotions play loud on face
he hides it handsomely

i'm doubtful of exploring
he ventures courageously

i speculate on life too much
he bothers not seriously