V
The dream isn’t really a dream
(Call up Chief Joseph and ask him)
Even though giant gentle elephants may float above
Or clouds laugh as children on the playground
In that place I look for my hands and find them
Watch penny whistle tweets shooting out the ends my fingers
Walk through walls and vault through closed windows
Talk to strangers from other realms
Find my self by losing it
The essence of who we are
Does not rot with this bodies end
The knowing of this moves us to use it
As a delicate instrument capable of fantastic feats
Sets us free to overcome our fear
Observe every present passing moment
With keen attention
With joy
And stop walking asleep
Musings that drift from the desktop out into the ether.
About Me
- Poet's Platform
- Stanwood, Washington, United States
- Mostly spend my days writing. Also researching my family history which I'm putting down into a narrative that I hope to publish...before I die !! The project is like eating liver, the more you chew the bigger and bigger it gets in your mouth. Like to garden a bit and travel.
2 comments:
Ok, I'll try to stop sleep walking although I must say, sometimes it is easier. ;) I may get exhausted if I try to observe every present passing moment. Couldn't I just pick my moments wisely instead? :)
Mike: I love your words! This is a beautiful site and very inspiring to me, word and music artist that I am. Keep up the great work!
I'm looking forward to seeing your book in the flesh, so to speak. It is like a child, in a way, the creations we make from ourselves.
Bonnie B
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