The breath
That grounds the trees upon which I walk
The world draws me closer
yet now the destination is lost
I have walked the land
Only to stop at the falling of a leaf
To watch as people walk past
Not knowing that they are the piece of literature
Eyes closed in this reality
I woke up somewhere else
I am no longer the stranger
Stepping past you in the morning
But the poet
broken through silence
The stream is thinking
To where do I go
A stranger once said,
“I do not have the answer”
Just before the rain talked
I asked the question
Quiet
As I taste the world on my tongue
It comes in waves
But it is the thought that I want to see
For just as a river is
So it must be
To the misty forest
without a name
To the single road
That starts again
Memories guide the way
Flowered hills
Dusted in blotchy colors
Like that of a painting
Bleeding color
Breathing texture
My hand gently grazes the bark of the tree
As lichen dance rainbows into the air
That single road has
Yet to end
As Sunsets are Sunrise
Darkness is only how much light
You let into your mind
My gaze is locked up
As warm stars
Litter light into my eyes
For I have seen the past
And let it fall from the sky
Where will you be when all the lights go out
To hold your breath for an entire lifetime
Not knowing the exhale until the end.
