Dreams of Flying
And it's no great decree,
This mountain speech,
The floating ebullient vagaries
(see I've been robbing myself of my own joy)
Seem to drench your sadness like the heaviness of landscapes,
Even one clear and green filled with cows,
And those hanging from green vines, far above the Earth
May be the only measurable moment of true happiness
(I am convinced I have to arrive here in my mind for the floating to occur)
In the sweltering good-vibes of the daily trod.
We figure an effortless smile to be of high, spiritual rank
With the seeds to flower:
Yoga, tea, breathing, sunshine, flowers, granola, blueberries, bad jokes...
We're begging for answers,
Running about the ridges of puzzles,
(wait I think I have a piece)
My hair now standing, rising.
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