restless sleep; wrestling dreams i rise in between thirst and tension to a silent house, awaiting activity, windows fogged from a damp night with only my thoughts to accompany me. so i let all remain blurred until i softly focus. 7.27.17
the rain is the rhythm of our unmet expectations demanding to be heard reminding me of natures force to exceed expectations. so i wait in its percussion to see how the rhythm evolves. 7.17.17
i fill myself with tranquil thoughts like a sponge i absorb the happiness in others while squeezing out their discontent. i have my days that dip down low drag on the bottom of all that has been; my clothes get stained, scratches on my skin, but before long i can stand again….
the air hangs heavy with future rain, continuing to dampen summer’s sun, slowing us down with its humid breath, a drowsy drug numbing our edges, we question what we expect to achieve until returning to the dry cool inside which sobers us up and we feel more alive. 7.24.17
too often we cut the stem soon to bud, from fears of what may we’re stuck in our mud of dismay, discontent, we stomp out our voice, awaken the fear to determine our choice dance or to dream for what we can’t see; i prefer to remain just being me. 7.23.17