Road weary I rest my head In a humble hostel bed. Nothing like the traveling days, Expansive beauty in my gaze. Imagining other modes of travel. Missing horses, Missing trains, Looking forward to my Tesla’s reigns. No more running out of fear. Only travel. Never letting my mind Unravel.
Damn the sight Of things unseen. Ego knows what ego sees Nothing else is remembered. (Our beliefs shape what we can perceive)
In my hands I find Urges from my mind. One hand containing cloth, The other poised with a pen, All of my hobbies coming around again. I know not to multi-task, But I have many un-done tasks. The trick is Making time for each one. Means many tasks quickly done. Twenty-five and five With those…
Awake I lie Hoping Again for a dream In which my lover is seen. Awake I lie Dreaming Again for a time When yours and my limbs Are intertwined. Awake I lie Writing Again for the hope That what I lay writing Manifests in my mind.