*Searching For Balance
In all my journeys
I have looked for balance,
the life forces that make sense
of a world gone mad.
These ripped jeans,
faded flannel shirt
and worn out moccasins
remind me
of dusty country roads
and deep forest green
lost to barren,
colorless wasteland
and seas where
whales have forgotten their songs.
Along this path,
I have looked into countless faces,
seen hollow eyes,
empty souls of meaning,
and unfocused meandering.
My animal spirits,
wolf, owl and hawk
talk to me of defeat.
“We are a lost,
defeated tribe.
Here, but hardly alive.”
So I continue this search
for understanding
balance
often waking from dreams
thinking I will still find your
warmth lying beside me
in my bed roll of desire,
your gentle, open smile
caressing through my hair
in long ago memories
cascading down my heart.
These worn out moccasins
no longer know which way to go.
They climb me mountains
where there is the bitter taste of snow,
down into valleys of unknown,
flowing me down rivers,
over their tall waterfalls
and into the deltas
of dead seas.
In all my journeys
I sought balance
in the world around me
and in my heart.
My spirit animals are right,
everywhere wasteland,
a tribe defeated
here, but not alive.
No balance in my heart
just the empty ache
of missing you-
your warmth,
your gentle touch,
your kiss.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16*
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 10:03 AM UTC
*Searching For Balance
In all my journeys
I have looked for balance,
the life forces that make sense
of a world gone mad.
These ripped jeans,
faded flannel shirt
and worn out moccasins
remind me
of dusty country roads
and deep forest green
lost to barren,
colorless wasteland
and seas where
whales have forgotten their songs.
Along this path,
I have looked into countless faces,
seen hollow eyes,
empty souls of meaning,
and unfocused meandering.
My animal spirits,
wolf, owl and hawk
talk to me of defeat.
“We are a lost,
defeated tribe.
Here, but hardly alive.”
So I continue this search
for understanding
balance
often waking from dreams
thinking I will still find your
warmth lying beside me
in my bed roll of desire,
your gentle, open smile
caressing through my hair
in long ago memories
cascading down my heart.
These worn out moccasins
no longer know which way to go.
They climb me mountains
where there is the bitter taste of snow,
down into valleys of unknown,
flowing me down rivers,
over their tall waterfalls
and into the deltas
of dead seas.
In all my journeys
I sought balance
in the world around me
and in my heart.
My spirit animals are right,
everywhere wasteland,
a tribe defeated
here, but not alive.
No balance in my heart
just the empty ache
of missing you-
your warmth,
your gentle touch,
your kiss.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16*
....thanks for reading
the music link is Moby's "Find My Baby"
https://youtu.be/Ep3I7gf8h58
