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Jan 2017
Wondering through
the complex mazes
of the wind,
trying to feel beyond
what I cannot see;

trying to see beyond
   what I can feel ―

The echoes of the breeze
invigorate the stillness

The weight
of a world heavy
expands like the traces
of life lived
packed deeply beneath
jagged fingernails

Lost in the wilderness
of my soul,
a feral wind
abides silently
as I wonder alone
from end to end

...  side   to   side
    
through a portal
shapeless as the wind

Blinded by a collective
bioluminescent light
rooted deeply within,
intimately touching
crystalline fountains
as the deepest pools
of innate blackness unfold
in the wake

I reverently touch
the inward rhythm
where a heart strong
     runs alone …

feeling its
pulsing cadence
    quake and thunder
    in reach …

Rivulets thrumming across
the burgeoning blossom
of soothing netherworld seas

Washing away
all the memories made
like the shapeless waves of wind
moving the stillness
beyond


wild is the wind ... 1. 27. 2017
the answer is blowin’ in the wind
.
traces of being
Written by
traces of being  I really have no name
(I really have no name)   
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