No Turns

The Knight unfound is lost amid faces sunk into our ground.

Show me, hear me, I beg, I plea. May I stay, dare I flee?

Will I show you, will you see? You’re here, after all. Come to see my fall?

Guide my heart, little star. Show me now, is it far?

Where do roads go past this scar?

Roar of days ancient fire twist ‘round my finger, twisting mire.

Will I show you, will you see? The knight unfound, with sleeping bee.

No matter the path I take from here, all is peaceful fear.

“No turns, next 50 miles”, no burns, no smiles.

Knifes edge highway, follow your glowing skyway.

No lines to cross, just uncomplicated direction. No bumps or humps, a subtle detection.

Loops with no condition, quiet night’s introspection. Pain’s stealthy blight, black hearts affection.

Forward or onward, a decisions resurrection. Temptation, a courageous heart’s great imperfection.

Take these wanderings, mind disinfection. Born to fly, gravity’s harsh interjection.

If only to hold, this glowing recollection. Fear the fear, this long disconnection.

Above and below, both paths reflection. Do I see, or is this just my predilection?

I am unclear, even my own objection. Guide me along, proper deflection.

Spring

My thoughts are a bit scattered.  So tired.  Sitting here under the false breeze, its so warm and peaceful.  I can feel it leaking into me, slowly working its little magic trick.  Its so nice to be warm.  Inside my glass box I see the world outside washing away a years worth of dust.  Clouds, so low I could almost reach out and touch them.  So massive they don’t even fit in the imagination.  Complex shapes that slowly past float overhead, silent and comforting.  How vast the skies are.  Oddly its all the mountains that help define the skies.  They aren’t wide and endless, stretching on and on like some I’ve seen.  But how tall they feel.  The mountains dwarfed by the heights.  Most of the year the clouds pass miles and miles overhead, a whisper of a wisp.  But their time has come again, time to descend, like a fleet of crop dusters.  I can see the order in this chaos.  While elsewhere is buried under snow and ice, California is coming back to life.  The land is transformed into a lush and verdant place.  Its all the more beautiful for its transient and fleeting lifespan.

Spring.

A return to life.

In the face of such a transformation, resistance melts away.  Everywhere I look resides hope.  Every obstacle looks small and petty today.  There is so much enthusiasm surrounding me, I can’t help but get caught up in it.  Now I just am waiting for the focus for all this energy.  It will be along soon.  I can almost feel it already, its not far now.  I have my eyes fixed to the horizon.  I follow my guiding star.  You follow yours.  Were all heading somewhere, and I think it will be somewhere warm.

Oh so warm.