A massive abundance on a gentle breeze.
Oh, how the clouds seem to move with ease.
Smooth and certain across the sky.
A visual feast for a hungry eye.

Thick grey centres, with edges soft and unkempt.
Oh, to be in that world of which I’ve only dreamt.
To feel the cool wetness I imagine I’d feel
If I could break gravity, and be in the clouds for real.

like walking by a river
singing in the rain
sitting by the lake
having perfect peace

They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.

Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.

Neither stillness nor
movement alone can hold us—
we are in the in-between,
where each choice sends
ripples across the surface
and every hesitation
writes itself into tomorrow.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and cannot define myself
what are my morals, what are the rules to govern
I am in the peak of discern, noticeably keeping up with charade
I am yet to be sure, what is my role to begin with
who do I play today, the actor with grace
and imposter weighs, this place is a fantasy
I decay, in the body given to me, there is no gameplay
I live and believe, everything anyone says

When I was a kid
The TarMac
Used to slowly weep
Bubbled up in the summer
Like it was seeking relief
We'd gather it up
On the end of lollipop sticks
Smear it on the arms and legs
Of all of our friends
Pretended it torture
Like it was searing the skin
Instead of pleasantly warm
Sweet smelling
Soft resin
The aroma of Cypress
And Cedar
And Myrrh
On those hot seventies days
Without a care.