the moment when the wind is all the music you need.
it whistles gently through the broken trees.
lying down on a bed of moss and rock,
dreaming softly of the coldness and dark.
time and space are no longer one entity,
separated by years of selfish identity,
then melting slowly back to original form.
magically twisted into one singular norm,
the veprecose thoughts of a lonely man
are enough to quell the greatest of plans.
or perhaps inspire to fevered action.
instead of panic, a meticulous reaction
to the drags and pains of billions of words
originally meant to satiate the ‘burbs.
no flash of light, no harsh battle cry,
just a movement with meaning, a stride with a sigh.
steady as the glaciers and calm as the current
in the face of an epic and disastrous torrent.
