The world askew,
The invention of false outlets,
Where you can write yourself anew,
For my entire span to date,
While I was still watching
The sunset in a field,
With the animals
And my flute
Connecting with the vibrations of the living world.
Tuning into me, them, it,
With every inhale
Creating beautifully loved
Bubbles of thought
despite the ill.
I’ll go sit alone
On the pond and bench
Erected in dedication
Where we buried my cousin,
Because we used to catch bullfrogs in terrace ponds in summer
Crawdads in fall,
Grasshoppers for bait,
While we laugh whole heartedly and fish there,
Because I miss the life in the world too much.
While I hum him another
Orchestra I wrote
That will never see paper,
Due to the state of green money and it’s current rule.
I just need to smile like that,
Family of mine,
Where there was always time
And love never had some sort of ruling or end.
I miss all 22 of you kindred of mine.
And if they are right,
I’ll see you all in the blink of a benevolent eye
Where my red poppy fields are abundant,
While my imagination erects that light emitting palace,
Situated on the perfect floating star cloud beyond time.
The downside however,
I don’t know if I just miss you all,
Or I’m stricken with grief because humanity isn’t very beautiful anymore.