within my chase of drifting in the wind have a good way to begin through night skies drift in all directions there must be time for confessing shadows block the tortured sky a smile from a lonesome child drifting ever
The graceful dance of butterfly wings, The budding romance attending Spring — The morning melody of birds who sing, The opportunities each new day brings — The serene swaying of porch swings, The relaxing splashing of gentle rain — Wedding
You ask about these tears These tears I cry…. Rolling down my face With every heave and sigh For a dying world Drowning in misery And hate ……These tears I cry For the lonely, The dying and The socially displaced
As I walked back to my house, i heard a stranger that passed me by mumbling numbly to himself about why a sidewalk will never unfold itself near the end of a routine and then become a fretwork of shadows.
A green smoke was rising to ferret out the elusive pain without body. I went in search of fidgety words to patch up the conflicts of flesh. Bold as Passiflora, Crucifixion was complete. Today a gift of obeyance will arrive.