I paint the trees that oh so gently brush my feet.
I sit and watch as the rivers sing secret melodies
And spires cut holes in my gently flowing clouds;
As purple rain soaks my swaying fields
And glass flowers shatter at its touch.
As I breathe in the smell of earth,
The cracks beneath my feet are swallowed by time.
Memories shimmer in the distance
And my sunsets are but clouds of dust.
I run lies between my fingers,
Like blades of grass that cut my skin.
I hold the shore-less ocean in a bottle
And cast my fears to the bitter wind.
I cradle the moon on my lake-bed
And gather the stars to sleep at night.
I am too weak to lie in meadows
But too strong to cast out monsters
All is gone too soon
But, as I awake from my awareness,
I catch my tears
“All is gone again tonight,
But never shall I see
The miseries that befall myself
Have they yet to mare me.”