the haze settling like a brisk pace
of tap tap tap on damp pavement
the wave rippling as the wind bristled
with each eager step, one by one
away from the steps of a hollow expanse
the hollowness shrouding, corrupting
the inner veins of flesh and bone,
the vision dimming to that of narrow keyhole
as the clouds raged and the ice clang,
tap tap tap the steps tread onwards
towards the horizon, towards the steppes
of bountiful bloom and effortless search
what is that I'm searching for?
the window hasn't been clearer,
the days more lopsided than that
of a rocking, seafaring vessel,
an arching ship, a restless thought
of a destination a hands breath away,
yet a million miles etched into decay
will I make it before it is too late

tying, tying the gnarled roots
into an entanglement trudging in
the waking shores,
its weathered cords of fiber billowing
over the decks, slithering down the masts
straining against, straining to withstand
the gusts of havoc, the blackening ashes
and twirling devilish gazes,
the net born of roots, deep deep roots
straining against the current
of worming doom, trickling from
gashes which scar like scythes upon flesh
and poison down throats,
the net of gnarled roots are knots
tied of eloquent artistry,
and still they strain,
still they are just...
*knots

when I was saved from
       the thicket picketed with thorns
               and soon the sun receded behind
                      the triple peaks of then, now, and yet to be
                               you howled into the glowing period
                                     vast, sparkling and combing the lands
                                            could I have grabbed your hand,
                                                 where the warmth stays and hearts flutter
                                                        and feet walk in sync past, now, and yet

the dusty repetitions dull and flashing
down, down the far descending paths
what became, what became of the
fiery gaze piercing through thickets
stifling, words shuffled upon hesitance
as the last foot falls echoed through
the quiet lands, where the grass
grew into golden straws and once
tranquil heavens now streaked like
a zebra's hide, wispy clouds flashing
of terrible lightening strikes as
fireflies rumbles across the morning skies,
bathed in  the slant of yellow light I step
far into the past where the hands were still
unspoiled and now I rejoice with the bluejays
and dashing salmons fighting a rigid tide,
don't, don't I know what may transpire to see
of the days which my breath can release
without the weight of a helpless fear to seize

so soon, always so soon
as the last draft of floating wind
whispers through the blades of grass
picking feet through the gnarled roots
the rain puddling along the sand dunes,
wait, wait I say with gulps of quivering breath
as the tad poles skitter along the dappled light
and the thick greenery overcrowds the cerulean sky
the waning golden light falls behind the looming horizon
leaving my feet to pick its way in the its shadow,
my eyes adjusting to the dampness of the willows,
the silence is hushed, the leaves brush
like unwelcome notions of a broken friendship,
and as I stumble my way through, yearning
for the last flare of brilliant partnership
the moon careens high above my head, settling in
a gentle tug, pulling at the shadows and casting
the faintest silvery beam for my eyes to seize,
and I pick my feet to through the winding--
abruptly, beautifully, my with the most magnificent spur
the night erupts in a frenzy of piano keys as minuscule
bugs carrying the stomachs of fire swirl, swirling into
the potholes through the leafy ceiling, and smiling I ran,
sprinted, with ease of a swimming tadpole
skittering along the stardust and infinite life line