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Can I find you past Mount Hua,
After crossing Cao’e River,
Through the fields of Longkou,
Will I be walking for long?

Sat, waiting for the train to go
To take me where I am supposed to be
Head pressed against the cold window
I want that seat.

Lost among the frames
And paths between stones
You should be somewhere among
The busy laying down of flowers
I want to know

A fickle not fitting anywhere
A missing piece,
Just wandering.


Who do I owe my existence to.
Who brought me here.
I would kneel down to you
And offer my deepest gratitude

Tired of floating up in the air
Just whisked around by the wind.
The tree with roots is stronger
The clouds so lonely.

Breezing by, the single leaf
Stuck in this one state
I’ll walk alone with my two legs
Don’t worry, I’ll continue to go
But where are you?

The people who came before me
Blocks of my past
You’re going too far
I’m lost.

This voice,
The voice formed
Trying to reach out
It’s calling out
It can’t let go,
Where it came from.

Every sunshine,
Every storm,
It surrounds us
Brings us to life.
I’ll always look up
And see it like you.

Going past Mount Hua
Alone among the clouds
Who put me here
I want to know.

I’ll travel long
And so far,
I’ve been walking for long.

I’ll put my respects
Will you see me
I won’t be disappointed
I’ll lay down everything
Just to have my place.

Left away
Those a part of me
I’m walking through the path
But where are you?

Parade of bones, ride high
Filling up the whole sky,
Past where my hands can't reach.

Bleached by sun and twisting,
Hanging like chimes singing.
Dance on, something like free.

You'll be gone tomorrow,
Split and cracked for marrow,
Pouring out your lifeblood.

Down below, the living
Never got forgiving,
And it sure ain't easy.

My Dakota plains
Broken by clusters of trees
That surround farms
Connected by black thin lines
Draped between poles
That follow roads

Or a shortcut across fields
On giant steel mannequins
Standing watch over
Corn, beans, sunflower
Or cows or horses
Or sheep

On My Dakota prairie
With rich black dirt
That feed crops
And sustain our towns
Our clusters of life
Our family and self.

I go the land
Of my ancestors
The Himalayas
To bet with my brethren
And hope to find love
And enlightenment
As the prayer flags fly
I smile.

I listened for an error but could not find
Anything to tell me that you'd erred.
The human voices were left behind
Among the dead, the long interred.
I wondered at the worry of a bard,
Whose penchant for making mosaics
Of dead and living shards,
Might wax a bit prosaic.

But 'tis nothing too commonplace for me!
I live in such a new land.
And look back where my roots might be,
Standing on a sunlit strand
And strain my eyes for thee.

And my ancestors who, distant, pass,
Clouded with poetry and pride.
The latter mean nothing, not even my last,
Grandparents who came here and tried.

Shoemakers, firemen and their wives,
Learned to dwell in a sprawling place.
But huddled like old Celts, converted, shrived,
As Saxon fires round them paced.

But all of that ended or so we thought,
One April day on a Lexington span,
Declared was freedom and dearly bought,
And a ****** new history began.

August 7, 2012