Dark and Wasteful Rambling Conversation I

In all my artist wanderings Traveling through these great lands of ours Places visited or lived in, diverse, memorable Many messages I received... As did so many that passed before me Passing through each wilderness Learning new steps to take. ___*___ From the lands themselves, such current’s rising Graced with as much memory as could be held... Weaving in with the music’s felt in drifting airs… Did you hear my singing too, joining too Off in the distances? ___*___ Danced I wildly through in all these places Connecting currents wherever found, discovered… Becoming one, uniting elements Strongly manifesting new impressions around chosen places... Like volcanoes quiet, smelly, silent cones Some still holding withheld fires. And such warm cousins, stifling Desert heats Driving me to ground to wait out the day… Can you feel this… laughing with me Waiting until tomorrow’s return. ___*___ How about even-heated, plain sand places Near to Ocean’s rocky, and broken, shell-strewn shores Having their own tunes to teach... No place here for barefoot wading Or, even waiting out the tides to rest. Holding still there, in your chosen place for sittings... With only bitter biting fleas and seaweeds stinking Offering sights and feelings for the day. ___*___ Though memory can serve up more irksome places Try Humid swamps with their dank, smelly waters. Small islanded wildlands opening And swiftly closing behind one paddling through. No trails to follow, just pick any direction Each offering little argument needed, to leave… As dusk and darkness settle in early Ready for new bones to chew on. ___*___ Quick was I always To run away to higher grounds When alone, lost in high mountain sloping’s Airs chilling to the bone Loose scree feeding fears of falling… Down and down into waiting holes in the ground. Silent… cold, wet in caves... Real rocky Earth connecting again. ___*___ In earlier days, and younger Where did that great, silence feeling visit before? Oh yes, on mystic Moon-lit nights As the large orb passed it’s own time for reflecting... Listening then to the rising dark... The Deep of ocean waters. Sighing within its quiet waves Can any chasm be as deep and black as mine? ___*___ All this varied life Much with bitter laughing… Well, what else could they even say ’Drop in for a visit…?,’ perhaps. Dare I even think more crazy things as this Dare I play so wild, in courting stranger dangers? ___*___ For be it known, this Earth has many diverse songs to sing And not all are pleasant melodies, ears find worth hearing. What do the crowds say… Oh, less said or sang by most, better to forget Learning well, few fully sane men are met On these sparse empty trails. So few chasing limits such as these Through their own many years, then going gray. ___*___ Crazy is... this courting chaos Finding yet still, many new in such haunted places Why not, are they fit for naive youth, or wise old men. Youth for learning true Elder courting curiosities, unsettling to Soul’s home. Trying to tie mysterious energies rising together Merging balanced to be enveloped By the later sitting-still. ___*___ Enough of this and those That given in Time and its special places Wait for waking presence in mind Sometimes waking old, ancient memories… Hearing connecting from a deep, quiet within ‘I’ve been here before…’ Ah, for the true artist Just the place to pursue real art impulses Where else can the right fools be found? Can we still dance?