I sit on a boulder
Of a canyon wall;
My slight heaviness of breath
Drowned by
The dull roar of cars that
Ebb and flow
Over the soft
Constant whoosh
Of a creek;
The wind on
My left shoulder
Cools my heated body;
Resting while
My beloved runs
Further up her path
Paved below me.
This is love.
Sharing a mutual
Interest to a point,
But not feeling
Obligated or jealous
When paths must split;
Rather the joy in
Pursuing your path
Is enhanced
By allowing her
To pursue her’s,
But knowing
The other, and you,
Will always return.
There is beauty
In the city;
Amongst the din
Of people,
But there is only
Exploration there,
A method of research;
It is out here,
Alone in nature,
Truths like I found above
Are found;
Out here alone
With the time and space
To reflect;
Like an eagle
Or Zarathustra
Perched high above
Over—man.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
I sit on a boulder
Of a canyon wall;
My slight heaviness of breath
Drowned by
The dull roar of cars that
Ebb and flow
Over the soft
Constant whoosh
Of a creek;
The wind on
My left shoulder
Cools my heated body;
Resting while
My beloved runs
Further up her path
Paved below me.
This is love.
Sharing a mutual
Interest to a point,
But not feeling
Obligated or jealous
When paths must split;
Rather the joy in
Pursuing your path
Is enhanced
By allowing her
To pursue her’s,
But knowing
The other, and you,
Will always return.
There is beauty
In the city;
Amongst the din
Of people,
But there is only
Exploration there,
A method of research;
It is out here,
Alone in nature,
Truths like I found above
Are found;
Out here alone
With the time and space
To reflect;
Like an eagle
Or Zarathustra
Perched high above
Over—man.
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