I never thought myself a leader
Yet I have always been skipping out ahead
Finding the way of the Wayshower.
I venture outside at 3 a.m.
To breathe night-ions
Garnering the darkness
In eager search of distant stars
I fly no flags of bedsheet measure
Only tiny banners of love
Protected on my windowsill
But these I fly proudly
Wings open to the heaviness of air
I am the mouse fascinated by the whiskers of the lion
Unobserved yet always overseen by gentle Divinity
Tweaking my tail, tickling my nose/
I paddled in ponds wearing shoes of adventure
I walked away from lifetimes
While laying no claims
Save those of memory & desire.
As to where this shall take me
I hardly imagine.
My face & my name ahead of me
I still search, scanning horizons
Calling myself forward.
Unready to upstage the world,
I can only upstage myself
One accomplishment at a time.
I test the boundaries of constancy
Questing the North Star of God
I live behind no screens
Of televised content
Content I create my own world.
Where I am a hero on the Hero’s Journey of real life.
I boil carrots in the dark
To better see the day
I wipe my pens on my sleeves
Dotted with ink & drenched
With words about worlds yet undiscovered.
I would bestow my wisdoms
To children I shall never have
Applauding their creativity
Inspired by a tiny phrase.
Until I began these midnight maunderings
These densely-packed thoughts only to
Be experienced in single splendors…
It IS possible to love every tree in the forest
Every wave breaking in similar salty froth
‘pon strangely lit beaches
I watch the world lie down in death
Anticipating only resurrection.
The incense burns
Fierce & hot
In the grace of alluring scent
I burn to be so!
Never regretting the
Ashen remnant; each
Thought clinging to my nostrils
Breathing in & out.
Blessing all, even the unholy
Especially the unholy
My singular quest to bring
New thought to a mind
Steeped in the familiar.
I cry “Poverty!” while bathed
In the richness of a burgeoning world.
I follow growth in a hunger of appetite
Sentient in the awareness all of it has passed.
My life is a bowl of chocolate strawberries
Sweet upon sweet
Succulent & bursting with juices filling hunger
All is moisture tho more appreciated
In the deserts I choose to live in…
I burst with the treasure of living words
All spoken before me by minds so much greater
Yet what I know is sweet upon sweet
As one by one, I choose my earnest, surprising adventures
I am an oft-told story
With hope of teaching another.
Inimitable, this world at the measure of ten tiny toes
I fight no dragons with my bamboo walking stick
Tho I smell them nearby
Feeling jeweled eyes fixed ‘pon my morsel self.
I pray on, an unlimited artesian well of self
Prevailing over their fiery breath
I pay no attention to mirrors
A rooster’s comb of misrule for a crown
I smile at reflecting shadows
There is nothing left behind but the journey forward.
My past is buried, a scratched-over self I claim not to know
How can I remember a name
Called before I became who I am?
Would it entice me even a moment to become that she?
There are bite-marks all over my past
I’ve chewed it to the bone & beyond
To nourish this future!