Tuesday's wet march - rain cold
Bike through cars trucks
Lights pierce exhaust - a new species
Of air burning vapor of life
Breathing in the ocean's depth
Whale sharks and dancing, swaying hypnotic coral
That I may never touch
On my morning commute.
The Day
The day has been given me
Not my story or my name
Not my job or the game
A higher power its nature un-tame
Whence have I come?
Without a goal I run-
Seeking fun, baking sun
Who to blame
Wence I exclaim: I am!
Free - I am.
Bat Outta Hell
Spirits enthused
fly from a cave at dawn
In Austin
Blind with faith
They spring in search of prey
Onlookers leisure to stand and stare
But marvel they do
At the rhythm and flare
To look as a child
In awe of the gift
To be open and blank
As a sky and mist
This is to fly out and follow
A drive that is pure
Instinct and a wandering
Everlasting cure.
Tuning In
The channel a tune
From a passing car
It's loud, then faint
Its message unsure
But it comes and goes
That I know
I must but to walk and listen
Observe the show.
And when I am open, reserved and true
The music appears with a golden hue
A muse that exists and I'm not immune
To play and dance to this magic tune.
Stop Lookin' for Me
Freedom from self - and my story -
On purpose. Calm and ready
To break the surface.
A tale, roleplay too frail
Prostrate spriritual jail
Breath and conscious flow
Hail don't judge how low
The parents went
and the angels didn't.
Goodnight God bless
Goodluck - nothing less
It ain't me babe
I'm free to express.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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