The atmosphere of the sound I hear
the water flowing and waves crushing were pure seer
The sound of the breeze moving freely without a incomplete utter sheer...

Endurance in the desert
with the blasting sun
Rough edged gravel of stone,
yet to come,
With ancient ruins and temples
made with the finest of all
From the descendants of oldest civilization

Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics
Condense

Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers

Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Converts
Into snow pack

Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams

A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic
Energy

Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity

Reaching a levee
Then breaching

Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match

As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love

Down the dusty grey gravel road
Violet jacaranda trees blossoming
Under the clear blue skies

Pomegranate is sweet on her lips as she stands on the barrier edge
Bit by bit petals stretched
The pomegranate seeds start to set in a spell
Yet not knowing soon she will be entering hell  
In the centre of earth a massive crack
Coming out the devil himself secretly planning an attack
The daughter of seasons was pulled in
Leaving the devil with a grin
Mother nature arrived too late
As her daughter stands by the entrance ‘’Gate of destruction’’
For six months she will stay below
In the other six she can enjoy the rivers flow.

And then it hit me;

it had nothing to do with the fact that I tripped over a rock
fell and scraped my knee, crushed orange leaves and marred
them against me-it'd be tricky to get this off in one wash.

I was caught by an overdue epiphany;

it had been chasing me since the beginning of everything but
I promise it was not the reason I jogged each and every season
back and forth-which I suppose also was metaphorically.

Nothing was going to change;

I got up and brushed my raw hands on my ***** pants,
mud stuck to the heel of them and trickles of sweat fell down and
made everything that much colder-windy city.

If I kept waiting;

my breath came is white puffs, rapid and elevated,
the sun broke through the thin barrier of gray clouds and I swore
just a bit at the state of my ripped pants.

For someone to come and alter it;

my legs were burning at the sudden discontinuity of motion and thus
I got up and stretched once more- my knee was bleeding- inhaled deeply
the scent of crushed leaves and began my journey home.

It was me all along;

Children played,undisturbed by the chilly breezes of Autumn,
they fell and laughed merrily as though falling was just a sanguine
thing to do.

And it wasn't easy, I know;

The wind took the tiny tangerine hats off trees, blowing, howling,
the leaves soared at the mercy of nature's cycle-death and rebirth-
and suddenly my excuse of “what's the point? I'll die anyway.”
seemed petty and amusing.

I needed to change to change things.

A child, unafraid of pain, dove unto a pile of gathered leaves,
disappeared in a midst of orange and red after emerging
flushed and jolly, snickering and snorting. I crossed the road
and reached the door.
And after I let water fall and take away the dirt, a stray leaf had
made its way to my hair and I did not throw it away but kept it
as a reminder of the tumble I took to fall to this conclusion.

Autumn fell unto my world, feathers bright like the plumage of
a Phoenix bird in flight.

In a world without technology,
can you imagine how it would be?
To not have any lights.
We'll probably stay home at night.

In a world without technology,
we'll lose forms of connectivity.
We'll not have wifi or 3G,
distance will be as it should be.

However, without technology,
We won't have people far away,
because we can only walk on foot.
Most will live at home for good.

Without technology,
perhaps there'll be more sincerity,
where more people would be seen,
not looking at their phone screens.

Instead they'll stop and listen,
giving undivided attention,
to the people by their side.

Perhaps without technology,
we would have to do things manually.
Life may be tough physically.

But with technology,
is our life really that easy?
Is the world really as it should be?
Are people living in harmony?

Or is there more strife?
More people losing their lives?
Or is there more pain,
more people dying in vain?

What about pollution?
Isn't it part of our contribution?
All the fuels and carbon,
it'll soon bring us to extinction.

Our earth today is now diseased,
life on earth is not at peace.
We can deny all this,

And this is the utter irony,
while it gives us mass connection,

It reduces engagement,
attention and perhaps even compassion.
"Across the globe, millions reported dying",
ends up being desensitizing.

Technology's connectivity,
leaves us more detached than we should be.

collision -
head on into
something i thought
i'd lost
before i found

finding doesn't
rid you of
loss,
but the weight
of it all
can either suffocate
or liberate you

the thing
we must always
remember-
we never
walk
without a
choice

Sunup
expectations low-
another day aimed my way

- till the sky became
a color never named
and changed my world - again,

a new day.

r ~ 10/12/14

Sometimes I have to cry.
Not because I'm sad.
Not because I'm happy.
But because I live in a shaded grey.
Always in between and never touching the end of each extent.
And when I think of you,
I cry.
Maybe I cry because I'm not with you at the time.
Maybe I cry because I miss you.
Maybe I cry tears of relief,
Thanking this universe for giving me love like this.
Because I've been neglected.
And torn apart like paper.
Maybe I cry in fear of losing you.
Maybe I cry in fear of having you.
Maybe I cry to relieve my anxiety.
My anxiety from an unknown cause.
I never know why I cry.
Maybe I never will.
But maybe,
Sometimes I have to cry.
Just because my twisted mind enjoys the feeling of these sheer tears that are filled with so many emotions as they're strolling down my face.
These mixed, jumbled emotions I can't sort out.
Some people say that black and white is all they know,
But I never knew black and I've never known white.
But grey...
Grey has walked beside me for years
Letting me taste each extreme,
As if that ever benefitted me.
And I,
I always stay in this area of grey.
It's the only place comfortable for me -
Someone who has felt both sides of two opposite ends.
Cause if it would let me leave, it knows I'd remain here.
Not because I'm sad.
Not because I'm happy.
But because it understands
That sometimes I have to cry.
And I'll never have to give a reason,
Because I live in a foreign place of unmade up minds and mistakes.
This place I like to call grey.
Which has gave me a home to store my imperfections.