Metamorphosis 2

The decision
To fly to the sun
Seemed easy enough at the time.

We just wanted nice.
Not prone to violent swings.

But staying aloft
The thermals failed
And pushed us to extremes
We watched each other die
Many times.

Each corpse
Each empty shell of our former selves,
Fell to earth.
We flew against the cold
Wings stronger than previous

Where were those children
Looking for false dreams
Perpetuated by fools?
Through sheer will
With one lifting the other
While the skies folded in on itself
Did we find ourselves
On the other side.

Love is an odyssey whose only guarantee is that no one in it or practicing it will or ever should, stay the same. It is terrifying and painful, and wonderful.


This is where I go
When the world goes mad
Everyone telling me
I must choose a side now
I must pass judgment now

Every man
Is my brother
Good, or not good

I mourn my brothers
Whose lives are so broken
That they find themselves
Forcefully subdued

I mourn my brothers
That find themselves
Bestowed with power
Beyond their control

I find mourning much more pragmatic than picking, or making a side, which will ultimately yield nothing of value. It requires circumspection, introspection, and a willingness to suffer at the hand of all truths.
However, as long as I have lived, and from what I’ve witnessed, mankind simply lacks the wherewithal to make this the standard.
Seemingly, we just want vengeance, dressed up in all sorts packages. That approach will never address the core problems. When will we learn?

Pink Fog

audio accompaniment: “44444”

We walked in your forest
And were transported
By the language
Spoken between tree and root

To a place 
Found only in the mind.

I stopped to weep.

At the bridge
Tears of joy
Fell into the river.
Drops united
Flowing to the sea
The great expanse

“We mustn’t stop,
It is forbidden”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“This is my place.”

They were coming for me
Masks revealing only their eyes
I removed my covering
Breathed deep and long

Atom by atom
Into the pink fog

I went for a walk in my favorite forest on Monday. It’s ok to walk, but no stopping? No meditation? No appreciation for the connectedness of nature?
Put me in jail if you must, but I refuse to “visit” a place I call home.

multiple exposure photograph with birds added (manipulation) – I wanted to make a square, but it just wouldn’t work