four flying birds into the vastness above
As skipper set sail, its wings were well balanced,
It flew into the winds and grew like chives in a garden.
It savory and sweet, experience the rich color of a beet
Its waxy leaves took us long and far, especially for being towed behind a car.
From the great sequoias of old, to long windy roads.
From the feeling of sand, my toes the shovel, the earth the man.
I dug it up in Mt. Shasta, fell into this office jam.
Mi Amor, the love of the sun. The vibrancy of summer, this work life is no fun.
So here I started my own Tantric, solo band.
Webbed directly to the source, laughing at the illusion of course.
The fight to win, the trivial conditioning we're all in.
So play the rhythm, play to the beat.
I sit here in Portland, and I've got no sleep.
A lucky son--Boulder during an Arctic front
Glasswork: Chihuly
No comments:
Post a Comment