Dec 2014
This boy ran into the forest at dusk. For he knew that big brother does not reside here.
The boy quickly became the trees. Standing tall above every terrestrial object at our feet. Accepting his guardianship over the noon lit sky. Loving the idea of growing into everything he is not, and everything he could be.
The boy melted into the mist, hovering over our lives. Chainsaw quiet, laying down his best guard. Seeping into the moisture of these lungs. Watering the soil of your next words. May you pick them with confidence.
The boy ruptured from the crust into the sky. Throwing up volcanic past times and reasons to stand on two feet. He needed to understand bravery. Exposing every thread in order to create opportunity.
The boy became moss. Overlooked and beautiful in his silence. Over viewing this place of fast talkers and truck stops. Studying footprints and shadows, falling quickly under the day light bright. Growing in places people may not notice.
The boy became soil. A simplicity few would acknowledge. A support in the storm of tomorrow. Break beat nervous for wake of forgetting. Fading slowly into the past.
The soil. Still present 50 years later. Growing crops. Building families. Giving life. Turning his bones into maps using his heart for ink. If only these people knew of the boy that gave his life for these lands.
The boy quickly became the trees. Standing tall above every terrestrial object at our feet. Accepting his guardianship over the noon lit sky. Loving the idea of growing into everything he is not, and everything he could be.
The boy melted into the mist, hovering over our lives. Chainsaw quiet, laying down his best guard. Seeping into the moisture of these lungs. Watering the soil of your next words. May you pick them with confidence.
The boy ruptured from the crust into the sky. Throwing up volcanic past times and reasons to stand on two feet. He needed to understand bravery. Exposing every thread in order to create opportunity.
The boy became moss. Overlooked and beautiful in his silence. Over viewing this place of fast talkers and truck stops. Studying footprints and shadows, falling quickly under the day light bright. Growing in places people may not notice.
The boy became soil. A simplicity few would acknowledge. A support in the storm of tomorrow. Break beat nervous for wake of forgetting. Fading slowly into the past.
The soil. Still present 50 years later. Growing crops. Building families. Giving life. Turning his bones into maps using his heart for ink. If only these people knew of the boy that gave his life for these lands.
