The sky
is unimaginable in
it's lucid vastness
as kaleidoscopic clouds
skip across that
cliché post-card blue
under which I am going
post- modernly insane.

2.
These trees,
they speak to me.
Whispers in my hair,
and teases me
with rambling
codes of rhymes
and riddles.
I speak to them,
my woes, sorrows,
happiness,
anger, and
most of all those trees
have absorbed my pain.
I feel their hearts,
I taste the bark,
I count their leaves,
and I am half- crazy
from it all,
full of praise!

3.
Swirling, tumbling,
wildness in constancy,
and when
the sun shines on
this river,
it is a rapid,
solid, pure rush
of golden light.
This blinds me,
but I do not look away.
My mind is blind,
but my heart is not.

4.
Who am I?
What am I?

5.
I simply am.
Existing only within
change, yet
without changing
at
all.  I am just within
my reason.
Vapid as
a new thought.

6.
I am.
I am relentless.