windy cliffs
March 13, 2010
Sun shines like a sparkling iridescent lime,
Not like a lime is a sun or anything,
the glory vibes of light raining in,
The ledge of perfect past is a window frame picture,
On future’s threshold the new times emerge beside a mirror,
I thought the journey was focused like a lens on me,
walking along the mideast lakes, the sahel rivers, or a portland shop of black gold addiction,
there is more now, someone new so sliver of light,
dancing on the moon sucumbing to the earth’s poles,
the waves dance on the sands up held hands of flats endless,
the interior of the wilderness with it’s warm spring advent winds,
I enclose myself in a case, leaves my soul nest of vacant motions,
Work myself to the orient, prove the hard walked road of my fathers,
He won’t call no not to bother, always another version bikes at open rivers
Solitaire was a favorite path, but not a whole lot of company
