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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
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