During an Interlude from the Mundane

The rough cracked undergrowth
doesn’t hurt much
now that a clearing has appeared
for a while

The water is familiar and beautiful,
a deep well of buried impulses;
I lie beside and take long draughts

I know the forest awaits,
but I am scared of the trees.
Can you distinguish amongst them?
Perhaps, that’s for the best.

I would be a fantastic tree,
yes I know and many say so
while others ask why I left the clearing
and why I shall again

The water tastes wonderful.
I’ve felt its power before and
made promises, taken vows
and I shall do so again – of course

I know you can’t help me keep them.
Solitude, here, is prized and cursed,
and like always, leaves me unsure.


Just an Experiment

On the off chance
If all you see
Is a sea of black and white dots
Then step out from your shelter
And walk through your city

Pay no heed to
Sights, sounds or smell
They diminish and deceive the truth
Consistency robs them of consequence

Instead know your brothers
Know me
I lie each day on your street
Your neighbors are kind
They aid my poverty
But I don’t seek your grace
I only wish to tell my tale

I am your grocer too
Your milkman, your maid
Your office clerk, your guard
I am more than my occupation
Speak to me once
And discover for yourself

I am the stranger on the road
Walking towards you
Mindful of your presence
My thoughts and dreams as vivid as yours

Can you imagine the strength
of our combined urges?


I see when I close my eyes:

A small clearing in some obscure woodland
And me perched on a bark that is higher than most
Observing the trail of trees
As they wind away from me
To a distant place I care not about

Calm white waters all around
And on a small wooden island I lie down
Oars overboard, sans sails
At the mercy of currents
Swaying to the rhythm of solace

Dried leaves strewn about
Like vestiges of memories laid to rest
And the trees now bare, bow down
To the might and grace of autumn
While I step on those memories and walk ahead
Slowly, earnestly and with great will
In search of my autumn