Wherever we are
On this wildflower road
Leading where it will
Take notice
We will never return
We will always look back
Let this be a memory
We carry in our pockets
Now that we are
And what we are is wonderful
Naming the flowers at our feet

stop with me
in the madness
of electric lights
and broken songs
in the chaos
of insecurities
take hold of me
go nowhere
with me
explore the vacancies
between breaths
treasure rooms
of mirrors
stop and see
with me
the home we are
forbidden

Shells wash up on shallow shores
Sure and unashamed

Ancient treasures shed by shadows
The ocean ricochets

Patiently musicians wish
To share imaginations

Champagne fish and visions of the
Starfish constellations

They shout their cache of consciousness
Shivering vibrations

Sugaring the fishermen
With ocean incantations

Stoic
Seismic
The earth unfolds
His rubber band tight
Spinning out of control
Never even flushed
But the ripple of a vein
Traces thoughts he forgot
To bury with the pain

Grinding
Teeth
Tectonic plague
He’s got electric eyes
High voltage rage
Wraps it all in a smile
That he’s sewed shut tight
So the magma doesn’t peek
When he says “all right”

I recycled a prompt from last April and chose to write a poem inspired by the first song that played on my Pandora station.
This song was 'Kiss the Sky' by Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra feat. Nino Mochella. I encourage you to listen.

There is war for the taking
For those with open eyes
The weapons are in waiting
For intrepid minds to rise
Some have fought with vigor
In hopes of skirting pain
But though the curse is certain
We do not fight in vain
There is peace for the making
It does not come by chance
The hallowed blood of martyrs
Gives feet to the advance
Now cradle your mortality
That fire beneath your soul
Love can win the battle
Though evil feign control

Verdant epidermis
rolling silk
farther than eyes
Veritable smorgasbord
twice removed
Coastal pull has
stretched you
bled you dry
forgotten plains
Do you still keep secrets
and give away bread?
Do you still keep God company?
Vested sustenance
true as earth
impervious to time
Velvet sodded canvas
I am moved

How beautiful the borrower
How happy is her lot
Chains that bind to property
Are left behind to rot
How beautiful the borrower
Whose house is not her own
Who cares not for the daily bread
Except that from the throne
How beautiful the borrower
Who has nothing to give
But shares what she’s been given
By the Lord of all that is
How beautiful the borrower
What peace is in her mind
Without the need for worry
She is ever only kind