From the wild wheat, split and well broken,
whereas nature shows her mercy to not sting
your feet; as these boundaries are meaningless
to wild creatures; as the wash of your fears is
mostly made of us leaving tear stains- waiting
for that harvest in a direction, we only know
Spit grain to a graze on a stone, hide all of your
dreams in a piece of melting snow- while the
earth is still steep, her every ocean so, so deep
As your footprints in her sand is just an empty
space; that recollection of those old skin shoes
I once thought ahead of all the questions hanging;
but answers are always so ahead of us- revelations,
above us all, oh, sweet Lord, I’m only but a small
bird, not much bigger than a person’s thought-
I don’t really soar most days, but push myself to
at least float; as the hardships of life have taught
me how to live, but haven’t taught me to fly
