It's admiration, inundation
A secular or religious nation
A land of automation
Drowning in inflation
*******
And frustration
On each radio station
We claim dedication
But all we need is
Validation

Blue lakes gave the glass a crystal world of looking
The ocean seems blue
It can be rough water
Dream water
Red water
Zero water too
Aimless
It's time to shine
In the dead of night
Flow into a delta and find its goal
Its rivers and tributaries meander, broken down, broken up, algae
It carries soil, silt, sand, streams, silent
Silent
It is created, evolved, reincarnated, now
Rolling with the tides and the moon
It's not leaving
It will not speak
It doesn’t go far
But the distance is too long to walk
It runs in Winter
Slows in Spring
Dangerous in Summer
I hear it sing
Drum up a current
It's glass
It can flow
It can pass
Under bridges where cars and trains are electric
It waters the land
Straining until pure
Removing all the lures
It is a flurry
It is fast
Fast
I see it, hear it, I feel it too
It's been green, brown, pink, orange
Red
It's been drained
Remained
Stained
Up close it's clear
But at a distance
It's blue
I see the air, the moon, the hands, the truth
Breathing in
The ocean's blue

I get down on my knees
In front of honeybees
I sit directly in their song
Just to hear them hum
They always watch me carefully
When I say anything
They always fly away
Like I would disturb their flight
And their short-lived life

Our passions are fueled
By actions in practice
Our discoveries can be lost
In arguments of semantics
What is discovery
What is passion
Why do I feel
This sense of abstraction

Abstraction
And chance
What a beautiful combination
A happenstance circumstance
That brought you to culmination

A sitar sings
Her notes carried on the wind
Like cactus seeds
I brew the roots
And drink the juice
Of desert dreams

Each cup is filled
And cold toes are warmed
By little spills
My hands are scorched
Dunes are grabbing my ankles
And pulling me forward

To the cross-legged drums
They sound like water droplets
Each beat flows
In a pool of stone
Caressing the ears of cicadas
as their legs pierce the heat
of the hailed sun

Halogen lights are lining the walkway
Bright, bright, bright
Each one
Blinding, but I keep staring
Leading to this place
It's bland
Bland, bland, bland
But I keep coming
Beige filing cabinets
Contain the documents I need
I need them
A paper envelope
Two times a month
I can be relieved
There are others though
Disengaged, but we share a goal
To make it
Until we are gone
Gone, gone, gone

Paintbrushes and bulldozers
Canvas and land
Creativity and destruction
Each done with mans' hand