As a perennial here
I’ve grown and died
with reasonably quiet roots
learnt colloquial voices
that let me pass in these beds

But frothing coasts,
shattered hand held heights,
cool plains of forever
and cobbled nooks
magnetise more with life

So bring me the horizon,
you wild world
and release me of my soil
commitments
so I can continue

I drove a raised road
which gave a view of fields
much different to home
though mere miles away
vast, dark-rich soil potential
where words couldn’t fail to grow
but in a syntax not my own

There, the syllables of rushes stood clear
arrogant, apparent
with no lost edges or liminal blur
where I would speak my words

Heading back, a driveway sign said:
ROSES, BEANS
and now, at home
I’m lost to what that means

The terra is only one
planted in clay soil
one planet of earth!

The sneaked out nightingale
here is never gone.
Unleashes soprano  
at the same ancient roses'
still a perfumed home!

It's the starry upside's
dark down deep hole.
Sunset melting shadow
down the half light moon!
Eyes on in toto cool
after the day painter sun
is done colouring in full.

Guess, up from the sunrise mountain
who beams back tomorrow
into this unfathomed serene clay-mole?
Again see the sun follows by the moon!

The mounds of my sit bones
press firmly into the soil
Grass dampens me with mud-
moist from the water
just a few more feet down

Breath, soil; breath and drink and bask in warmth
Slowly walk along the sentence that extends
The year before the year, the frozen and thawed,
Fruitless but alive with another day's growth

I've spent an eternity staring at my own reflection
Trying to find out exactly what made me get here
and I've only ever found out one thing
That my life is absolutely pointless
but I also have a feeling that if I spend another eternity here
I will realize something else entirely

Because I've been having these dreams lately
these vivid, disgusting dreams
in which I know exactly the answer to the question I ask myself
And in these dreams, I don't seem the way I imagine myself to be
when I find out the answer
When I find out the answer
I imagine myself joyful
because why else would I spend eternities
trying to find out why I'm here
if if would not grant me a lifetime of joy?

I seem to be walking quietly around my childhood home
looking at my hands as they rot in front of me
And I'm walking heavily, you see
like I'm being chained to the earth
and I would have to spend yet another eternity
just walking around my neighborhood

I just keep walking until my feet turns into soil
And I turn into soil

I know now why I can't keep searching for something
I will never find