An Advent of Sense

Triangle chickens can't see the pecking order their eyes are so small Purple means newness then flowers start their reaching playing with sunlight I wither with sighs my throat burns for sweet moisture there's work to be done Why still bow our heads if wind pushes us forward all truth is manmade So no soul above? how no twist in the system? still feels like questions Chickens have gone now wind is blowing them pen-ward I'm here with the dog Present is trying more important than dying but damn its hard I am weak with sick this is no time for fatigue I must honor it Where is harmony self-control and free I'm angsty again

It heals my heart to say hello The greetings clean out my wounds I am mending As you allow me to give you my love I was told it would take a tenderness Of such strength and vitality And persistence To bring me back to belief O, relief! To feel again Not as I was But a melancholic, grateful iteration I appreciate who you are You have shared your pain Our collective ghosts Tether me to you And I see your blue storm soul

We had sunny days in spring running down cobblestone streets looking at old houses sandwiched together like we were playing sardines we used to embrace by the ruins several months after I flew in  there was  there was you How did that turn into starless nights that I spend inside  eating dinner in front of the TV Checking email to remind me  that I’m not really alone nobody to embrace, it’s all ruined been several months since I flew in where are where are you when we live in ancient places we become ancient ourselves so much wiser, livelier, souls lifted higher but sometimes you have to reach rock bottom to find solid ground when I think about you I live in the earth