Awaken, My Sandstorm

I can't... I can't even read these books today.

The tiny text is daunting.

It's all like blurred ink.

Haunting swirls

That I must

Stream into my mind -

My consciousness divine

Is being wasted

On paper's breath.

I try to fight through sickly heat

And put a cool glass of ice water

To my neck.

Chills submerge..


Sinks into a desert skin...

For a moment

Pangs of vision

Engulf my sharpened senses.

I can see for miles

As a cold surge of change

Rips through my static dreams

And I can see...

I can see...


Taste the moon

And decipher your clustered musings.

And with all this ability at hand

I am simply floored,

As it passes in front of my face

Like the Sandstorms of Time -

The grains blind me

Without a trace of warning,

Then subside

Into morning horizons ---

that distant line of missed chances.

One day...



Embrace your hand

Etch your palm into mine.

Walk into the forest

Watching leaves transform...

gather in heaps at the dirt,

And re-interpret

All your lines...

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