Third Eye

Whatever the vast expanse around me I feel says or does not say, 

It has not removed me, I'm still here.

There are too many trees to shade me from an unyielding and burning sun.

What I can see takes in the Earth and all its God-hewn forms.

I love them for what they are, and I'm thankful too, God don't forget that.

But I'm on the lookout for a sign.

Maybe you can't tell by my third eye peers through all.

It only opens with a tell, a signal, a lie, a truth.  

And I don't need to try because what I need to see just appears on its own.

Having this is a thing which either keeps me aware that too much exposure can burn,

Or it can show me the light.

Either sight saves.

In the meantime I'm glad to be among trees,

Trying to save myself from working too hard at saving myself.

Windswept

I'm on the open plain, it's so silent here.

And where the sound of my surroundings once held my senses,

Now quiet resonates.

I hear myself more than I used to.

My own head is louder than the prairie.

And dove seem to keep my attention from my ever growing thirst,

And I care more about birds than water.

When realization comes that time whips through stalks of grass,

I pull a blade and bite down.

The thin distance of what I can see is as blur of purple and blue,

My eyes water.

With all what I knew yesterday blown away,

I squint to see while wind tells me things I should have heard all along.

Home

Fireflies mark the lines where neat cut st. augustine lies.

In front of what you know to be...

And bees are moving in the hollies working blossoms gently,

Using the sweet and heavy air.

Where the girth of the oaks has gotten wider than you remembered,

And dim lights glow to you while standing at the curb.

Come in, you're home.

Gills

The current and shade won't let me see you,

Down there where I know you are.

And I crouch here on the bank with my eyes held still.

Knowing you're down there, looking up.

So, I jump in.

I can't breathe but I soon figure out how.

And our world flows over, and tries to carry us away.

In an exchange of ideals and wills, we make a trade.

All while we've caught each other and given up the world we had.

To let it wash away while water fills our lungs.

Next

Around about now I know to know what to do next.

But the next thing I could do is not the next thing. 

So I need to do what I should do next first.

It's never really easy to do next what I should do. 

And it’s not the next thing someone else would do.

Because what I should do next isn't what I would do or could do, even if I had the choice.

And what I will do next isn't something I couldn't do.

In fact it's something that's never been done before, at least not not the way I'd do it- Not yet, not anymore  

The next thing I'm going to do is the next thing to the best and last thing I ever did, at least for now. 

Because the next thing I'll do might be better than before. 

Youth

Lightning struck where I once had tread.

But the halcyon days I had have all but gone, and my youth with it. 

And a black hole in the ground gapes where I gallantly once stood on green sod with defiance. 

With pensive ambivalence I have looked down at it now for years.  

I wish for that bolt again. 

For it not for that blast of fire I’m certain my joys of today would be lost. 

The dust in my mouth doesn’t bother me.

No, I want more  of it 

While I’m down in this hole,

Filling it back up with my bare hands.