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Golden white light
of a new days morn
pours through glass
another day reborn
In the ashes of night
there lies but a thorn
plucked from the side
no flesh had been torn
White sheets toss n tangle
cold toes on the floor
unfathomable visions
eyes closed I see more
Her inflow of breath
his outflow explores
the depths of her hair
do please stay the course
There’s reason in knowing
what comes from the source
in the golden white light
of a new days morn.
I’ve often wandered
through this life
marveling at
the wind blown trees
and buzzing humming bees
and usually does it seem
I’m falling aimlessly
on fantasies
but lately could it be
all this time
there was someone
day dreaming just like me?
When a short walk
feels like I road trip
you’ll know.
Calm is the passing storm
from shelter’s mouth I view
Winds that whip the wrestling sea
from shelter’s mouth anew
Are waves which roar like lion’s breath
from shelter’s mouth I coo
How calm it seems the passing storm
from shelter’s mouth I view—a dinghy
in the water struggling, it’s a sailor
so uncouth—a sailor I once knew.
I fill my lungs
with the air of my ancestors
knowing my purpose
is their peace.
How curious it is that I
no longer beg or question why
but rather like the naked eye
accepts the sky is blue—
with honesty and strength that I’ve
been granted through these tales of time
woven as one as you are I
accepts the ancient truth,
for like the moon and sun decide
to shed or shield eternal light
with arms spread thin wide opened eye
keep mine closed now to see,
what beauty lies beyond the pine
is neither up to you nor I
it’s always been like time gone by
regardless of the proof—
in truth it’s curious that I
could feel so pure estranged from life
whose meadow in the golden light
is heaven here on earth.
Whenever
I am here
I am freedom’s
many son.
I am open
and aware
now
of my choice.
It is one of youth’s greatest gifts to be
confused and curious and dangerous.
It is also one of maturity’s great gifts to be
dangerous and curious and confused.
So consider me curious as to why
those dangerous days, strung out and confused
could seem so simple to me now?
Here in the arms of infinite light
you will see that darkness soon enough
and I hope you’ll identify it as: a beautiful life.
If I disappear tomorrow
in the light of today
do you think it be honest
to silently say
wind rushes swiftly, a swirl of decay
swept sands of tomorrow
I trust and obey
The grass was thick and warm
unlike the asphalt
which was fire to her to feet
so she lay in the grass
sharp but pliable blades
caressing her skin exposed
while the sun began
to shower her thoughts poured
like rain simmering steam rose
from the ashes and asphalt.
Words Of An Average White Male 