Tumbleweeds toss and turn their entire lives
Not a single ask of questions or whys
Simply free in it's simple ignorance
Beautiful among the windy dissonance

To roll forever is a perfect dream
Though how dizzying forever can seem
Is one tumbleweed like the other?
Could one have a sister or brother?

Unlocking the secrets of eternal joy
Through a funny, little, weedy toy
I guess that's the secret of rolling around
Infinite wisdom abound

Stranded for years upon this tormenting land
My heart yearns to leave the forsaken sand
With new wings spread, I will freely fly
To touch the sun, the beautiful sky

Determined to escape, I diligently build
Using every last brainpower I've willed
Day by day, feather by feather
This will be my greatest creation ever

Finally, after so many dreadful years
And all the painstaking tears
My wings are complete, I'm ready to soar
Standing before a cliff, I see the new door

Taking flight, I battle the wind
Reaching the sky, it's more than I imagined
Watching the world below me disappear
I'm suddenly embraced by immense fear

The distance increases ever so morosely
and danger lurking, more and more closely
Doubt enters my mind, I quiver and cower
Will I reach my goal or lose my power?

My wings are melting, the sun is near
Flashes of memories of all I hold dear
This must be the end, I'm holding my breath
But all is blurry, this must be my death

I find myself upon cool, green grass
The sun is gone, what was to pass?
Underneath the moonlight, upon new land
I notice something different about my hand

A black imprint on the tip of my finger

In this quiet, chilly room
Sit friendly faces lost in gentle thought
With comforting shadows warming their hearts
Sitting back and beginning to go

Fingers clamour, key by key
On obedient machines ready to paint pictures
Of little letters holding hands
To become a perfect masterpiece

They watch diligently with curious looking eyes
As their hands dance across the board
Step by step, checking their form
Like an actress playing in performance

Like groups of musicians, painters, and more
But muse and paint is not what they do
They are painters of a different medium
Who write all with pen and quill too

Creative minds weaving baskets of English
Bundled with words of mystical magic
They are the few destined to stumble into Narnia
They are a different few, we call writers

Behold!
that drawing in
                 of breath
                         a minty
              entanglement
   of starlit senses
How they curl
       like the opposite
               of smoke
over the very
insides
     of my
           earthen throat
                         crackle of
       autumnal breezes          
whooshing through
like a beacon
And in that
split-second
right before
deep freeze
my molecules
   rise and fall
       in the rhythm
            of snowflakes
each one a
unique entity
   dusting the
            solid soil
                with loamy richness
                    and simultaneous
              feather impressions    
           of relief
Now
like silk draped
alabaster
I am cooled
Like sweet
        river water
  I flow
       rocked by
the slow
churn of
growing freedom
             that alights my pores
arises in tender
stillness
     through the
          looming forests
           of my skin
              penetrates the
                  unseen journey of
                     my night
                 as demulcent
          and persistent
as the balmy petals  
of a
   raging,
fiery
    bloom

Earth's sweet candle fills the sky
As the twilight signals signs of a sleepy sun
Making its way to the bed on the other side

Leaving splendidly with all its royalty

A radiant sky of golden nobility
Showering the mountains with glorious yellow
Embellishing the land with beauty and splendor

A kingdom of majesty, born of brilliant fire

Loyal silhouettes take their post
Outlining the mountains with striking precision
Every detail, lavishly traced onto a canvas of light

Gilding the landscape with splendiferous shine

Good night dear sun
Your spouse will take your place
Bidding to us good morning

*Painting murals of magnificent moonlight