#self-recognition
*In an endless corridor of mirrors as clean as snow,
Me and my friends grasp each other with loose open arms and smile
As we dive into the mist of recognition and truce.*
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
***This summer I saw mountains
Thrusting out of the sea,
And mountains mellowed with age,
Rounded, softer, quietly returning to the sea.
I saw Redwoods: massive
Majestic, alive,
And marveled as I held seeds
From which they thrive.
I wondered at hands that could be so old
As those that carved the living stone
In rocks by the sea;
I stood in awe hundreds of feet
Beneath blankets of branches
Of ancient trees.
I listened as mountainous streams
Sang songs of the sources
Of life-giving waters.
I saw flowers too many to name
Running up and down grassy hillsides,
In and out of pine-scented forests,
Along rivers,
Through meadows,
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.***
*But why am I telling you this?
Because, of course,
I must prove I am free,
That I can see beauty
all around me.
But it seems
The less I feel free,
The less beauty I see, and
The louder I shout, “I am free, I am free”,
The more I scream, “I see, I see”.
It’s all a game,
You see;
you see.
I just try to follow the rules.*
August 1, 1970
(edited 10/11/2014)
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC