Sand Storm

Waking from the starry illusion of my own shadowed reality Bending towards the wings Rearing to take flight Though the delight will be sweetened with the bitter taste of the wait Wait I shall Best foot forward so they claim Until you’ve come to realize through this thick haze That it “twas only a mere miss take of footing” Out the gate Return to me thine keys Gracefully place them upon my stake Look back no more For there weren’t no mistakes to have been made Only serrated sightseeing taking up valuable space Filling the void if it’s mound Inward wasn’t so bound outward There could be no cries found Only casted cradles gauged in sound Again waiting to be found After all I must assume some parish to my find For in simplest terms My own reality is rather blankly missing its own reality in kind Unjustified by the creator I’ve yet to combine with the agitated truth that awaits my mindful mind Blustering to the rind Sand Storm CJGB