I slept for so long
Dylan lent me his dreams
Now, I wait for the wind.

I am the flower that everyone
picked over.
 No, I am the flower that you stepped on.
I am like the flower blowing in the early hour, Quicken
To be blown away by the pearly showers.
I am the one who sits alone.
Hoping for someone to join.
I am a flower with broken petals
Unsettled and fragile like a broken vessel
Or like a flower
Nestled beneath a trestle.

Waves crash against the sand
The air blows with the blues
and my mind, sits steady

My ears informed me that there was a Long Hard Road Out Of Hell,
But also that there was The Stairway To Heaven.*

Heaven sent yet hell bent,
Curved and bent.
You don't know where I am,
Because it all depends.

If the bird is the word
Then I'm flying above Earth,
As as far as my capability allows, I mentally surf.

Our lives are moving like jet streams,
And numerous times I've hit low points,
Aspiring to exceed my limitations.
The air I breathe is heavy.

Smoke floats from verdant leaves,
Currents lead us, but we are often misled.


(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

(Originally written 11/19/10
Revised 9/24/14)