Oh, how I have strayed away, old and gray, on the edge of my vision.
Seeping into my reptilian-brain, you are but the light everlasting.
Dear, sir, couldn’t you have recalled? The one with the pretty eyes of an ocean so blue; of the tirade of the torrent washing the wispiness of your face, in a gallant seascape.
Of the child who mourns for his dear mammy, crying on the floor. He is no more.
Generosity is quite the curiosity, that is, if you settle for mediocrity.
Heaven above! Almighty lord of our beings. Deign unto us the wisdom for a life of shining brilliance.

Perhaps, though, we have the answer already; in the hearts of our souls, the brain of our being, the epitome of our creation; what magic it is that stems the fire of spontaneity.
Lovestruck: dumbstruck more like it. You are but a haggard fool.
I have seen as the mocking bird has done wrongly. The world, upside down; growing in an acceptance of misfits. For they’re god’s creation as are you and I. Love them all I assuredly do, now, why don’t you?

Young, adolescent, children; immature with the years of their forced existence, tightened and controlled by those unseen. ‘tis the challenge. The solution? Perhaps undiscovered.
I have not seen the glory that is a tattered forearm. I have not seen the bane that has become falsified.
Oh, but surely do not forget, kind sir. You have pretty eyes.

I split open
        right down
the center of
   my lit-up blue
                of throat,
gutterally lush
        into deep green
tumbled brush
forest heartwave
zipping straight
between the sloping
landscapes of *******
as the heavens
          take me in,
                temper my
weathered blasts
of tempest
that have thrown me back
unto the wall of ether
Impacting through
the fibers of time and
spatial relativity,
the poisoned burns
along my spinal chord
                   crackle
with the scent of sage
and a
savory-flavored wisdom
of a more enlightened age
Yes, the time
for cleansing has come
and, as electricity
trips off my energetic crown
I can only see hazy
                         ribbons of
                   purple light        
          becoming
       one large
             sea of dreams
                        fully expanded
It is time
for visionquest and
I must make ready,
arms taking in the world
preparing for
silent battle
wordless in whisperings
yet ready to howl
           
I sit back on
my haunches
eyes on lookout
heart alight
in licks of green fire
my weapons hidden
my eyes that of a child
ever soft, pliable
ready for all to happen
and I must gather
my own children 'round
like a she-wolf
surround them with the
            timeless protection
                          of my breath
               as ancient spells
re-alight in the sparks
and a wispiness, like smoke
envelopes my being
By daybreak,  
         my old soul
will align
and dance with
           all the new
        I can
possibly
muster
or even
       think
to  
     bear

You can see the sky is soft and blue
And the sun rises slowly, bringing up
The wispiness of clouds, just passing through
You hear a bird singing, its call a gesture
Of food, of shelter, of a limb softer,
A slight wind blows through the trees,
And you know the morning is here, again.
You’ve felt this love, this sterling feeling
This huge and wonderful crush, as day breaks
Your there, and your son makes noises,
And writings, and finds a way to incidentally touch
Your heart, with news; of his son, or his wife, or his day.
Your daughter is there as well, in the morning, awake
Because she wants too, because she does not, and
Her husband is on her mind, and you are, together
On the thoughts of both of them once more.
The morning breaks, beautiful this time, no rain,
No cold, no winds of damage, as you breathe.

Down through the millennia grand armies have marched across plains of destruction.
Battle cries forever lost in the ether, spilt blood absorb and recycled. Names of the warriors forever lost, unknown to the future.
Civilizations have come and gone some never being known to modernity.
Important men striding the halls of power, controlling all they see, self impressed with their prowess. Brass knuckled business men climbing over and knocking down others any who got in their way, power at all cost.
Men gnawing their way to the present, leaving blood and destruction in their wake.
Where do such men go from here? How will their aggressive tendencies translate in the world of hyper-technology?
Will it propel them to the stars, or blast them into oblivion?
It's the toss of a coin I think.