Awake

Many moons I felt incomplete, felt an itch, an underlying notion,

Creeping into my daily dreams, my nightly thoughts,

This very specific urge to feed into whom I truly must be,

Grow my energy and guide my steps accordingly,

Allow myself to fly over the open water without fear,

Over fire fields that swallowed trees and turned ground black,

Over water that is wild and unhinged and unafraid to crash against a rock.

Connecting what is a dream and what is not,

Piecing the real and the imaginative making a necklace to wear, full of rough-edged stones,

Colorless, blowing in the dark, blinding colors!

There and here lay stocks of books, overflowing with inspiration

Full of outlived dreams, that created the world I know and the world I aspire

With a small tribute to a man,

I now walk into the wild, the wilderness of my soul.

12-12-09

An Bold Eagle's Moment

An inspiration occurs in a flash of wing's flap

The idea and it's urge to realize it is so strong, stronger than your own breath

It soars as an eagle into the vastness of the blue sky

If you take no action it flies off to kill a prey and the moment of eventualities is gone,

The otherwise fruitful land won't turn seeds into flowers and trees,

Should you follow the eagle's swift and determined journey,

There is no telling whom you will become and if today or in three years time.

Risk is gain is what they say, I tend to agree

Though I myself play my hand of cards safe to a tee.

I watch the bold eagle get away time and time again.

My only prayer is that one day

I will board a cloud next to this creature of might,

My ideas spreading the net as if a wingspan all over the sky of life.

12-12-09