The sky
is an ever fleeting masterpiece
and I've outgrown the confines
slapped on my abilities and mind
when I walk down the path
we're all shackled to,
but never question why.

The crowded path it too lonely
so I take one for me only.

I am as
vast
dynamic
ephemeral
as
the sky
when I look through my mind's eye.

What must it be like
to live life
pinned against a knife
perpetually threatening strife?

To have no control
over the fate of your soul,
what then, is the goal?

Incessant submission
detached from vision
there are no provisions
no friction permitted in this prison.

No deviation,
we are a subservient nation,
now turn on the station.

They'll play charades
with the blade
and act like they aren't to blame.

I am in tune
with the Universe again.
Thank you June
thank you Moon
thank you signs
telling me everything is in line.
Thank you sun
thank you fun
thank you for showing me we're "one."

Thank you grief
despite the fact your visit wasn't brief
you taught me how to hold on
to visions long gone
how to climb my way out
of doubt
in myself.
How to sit with discontent
trying to pay rent
for my own existence in every instance.

Thank you pain
thank you gain
it's really all the same.

This journal was never a plan
to be all that I can
just a hungover whim,
a trip to Shelburne Falls
steering clear of crowded malls
I found myself in a bookstore
whose marketing was just for me,
I could hardly help but sing
"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT THING,
THERE'S A CAT IN THE WINDOW!"

Almost two years later
I am hardly able to fathom
the truth in the words
"these pages made her."
I etched pieces of myself
in them.
Dug so deep
I'm no longer up the creek
isn't that neat?

I wonder if the ocean
ever gets tired of being pulled by the tides
if there are days
she just doesn't want to rise
and instead,
wallow in the abyss of her cries?

What about when
her feet are ripped from the shore
though she wanted to stay
a little bit more?

Caught in the fishing line
of time
barely stepping into a moment to play
before it's washed away.

Ever changing are the tides
her heart rides
and it's really no surprise
that's where the magic lies;
in a place hard to find
when she's sinking down blind
but when her face reaches the sun
you'll know it has really begun.

Have you ever sat
in the middle of a river
whose waters whisper
the secrets of life?

Behind you, the sound of
your memories flowing back
some reach you with a smack
opening an old crack.
Others, pleasant recollections
of sight, sound and touch
from the waters brush.

Ahead, the sound of possibilities
of who you choose to be
go on endlessly
the waters ebb and flow
with you as you go.

From where you are the end isn't clear
and that's not something to fear
revel in this moment, being here.
There is only this one.
Close your eyes, and another has begun.
Don't wait for the rise and fall of the sun
to seize what you want from life
to be static is to suffer from a psyche in strife.
Stop gluing yourself to places that
are not your home
give up the fight
there is nothing to combat.
Live in self-made hell
or abolish the shell
of your expectations
if you want to live a life of jubilation.

I wonder if it's out of whack
to ask
if those designer shades
are just a mask
or a salute to sunny days
though they'll always be stuck in a cage
of their absence of rage
at the state of this place.
What Ray-Ban filter are they looking through
to prevent them from seeing what's true?

Why wear sunglasses
as a member of the masses
still stuck in the dark
thinking money is their mark?

Sharks attack their prey
but at least they foot the bill
of the chain of events when they ****
instead of swallowing a pill
The Rabbit never warned them
about the candies in the bowl:
"This one makes you forget"
you're living a life of regrets.

Open your eyes
it's the first step.