some mornings are weighted
heavy like a tree trunk
others are as light as the breeze by the ocean side
the opal wearers stare at her third eye
longing for musical indifference
amidst the sagacity of incubation
stationing direct the planet turns around again
sans neglect you are apathetic at best
please sell me your music
is there no pleasure left in the moment
the smell of cacao, coffee, cardamom and cinnamon
offering up to the gods of wisdom
they lift us to the sky
on tired thighs
i try to hide but your light shines everywhere
i wonder about the magic
if anyone can see it anymore
are we no longer connected to the source
or have we lost our course
its in the present that you find it
a liquid attempt at lightning
a languid temperature
tempting me with its forgotten melody
methodical as a nightmare
severing connections to our ancestors
this measuring has gotten us all confused
and tongue tied
up to no good
i stood still for you
for a thousand centuries
i bared my head for you and shaved my soul
the dormancy of the dakini still lingers on my fingers
sing for me in the afternoon mist
i insist on letting you know that i love you