Sunshine fields of butter melt into landscape like an old relationship
Ingredients that have melded into seamless oblivion
Over and over again the same is true
Churning hearts hope for a land of uprightness
and children playing in the idyllic colors of their minds perception
What is it to be adult?
Behaviors wander through lusty streets of expression
where only those that have walked the path understand
A housewife lingers long for the feeling to long again
While a man continues to trudge each day
like a rat stuck in a bottle
Your neighbors kid could be the next one
to do what they said could not be done
and the fear of it binds you
Love the desire of your soul
and beg for it to blossom
away and into this place
I know of a time when dreams were encouraged
and thought to contain magic
My force went forth to explore and to cherish
each moment… to dwell in humility
and respect for the humanity
that once held value
In the spirit of continuity
Tenacious deeds did seek awareness
and reciprocity like the dance
between flute and clarinet
A deep symbol resounded the courtyard
and people gathered
only to turn away
with realization
they could not bear
Conditioned masses know it
but cannot change it
yet spend their lives trying to fix it
without identity
Dream flight fumbles
when bare thigh touches softly
in the naked hours
Spoiled we are and alone
with our indulgence
like whisky and swirling smoke
with a bar tab not meant for us
What did we expect when we woke
faced with truth too hard to recognize
like arms paralyzed from chasing dreams
and a voice choked on words without meaning
and a reflection unfamiliar
In the end, it is up to us to know
and the cycle of the homeless repeat
in the spirit of her mercy
where we are all part of the same
yet must release each other
and forgive… so that we might
dream again