The impossibilities of transcribing the heart Finding the usual tricks do less than impress Flustered; tripping over language Like when you see Summer’s first sundress
Yet we still have to exist in nature Bodies moving slowly as the sun rises Love’s hibernation deliberately stretched The disguises that passion often emphasizes
Cautiously keeping patience in this heat As the mercury continuously expands Rushing to the shore to discover relief Risking the mirage & being burnt by the sand
Oh, where does our journey end Or begin, as it so often might seem Futile attempts to erase the past The unknown details of our dreams
The open road panders to a false escape The mere opportunity to rewrite a sojourn Jesus perambulating with Uncle Walt Debating the path; perchance to learn
Shaky prospects in apportioned time Manifest destiny teases Ginsburg & Kerouac Further roads leading to ornate wisdom & we keep it concealed out in the back
Thoreau mocking society with his solitude Knowing alone is the greatest we could ever be Thoughts come to us in gentle waves That perhaps our visions should become the sea
A reinterpretation of westward expansion Route 66 cross-contaminating Highway 61 All roads have never led us home Emily tempting Death with her life left undone
The growing wisdom of our consumed space Emerson’s penning pre-revolutionary blues Introducing our souls to unrefined grace The Good Lord providing Her unfiltered muse
Feeble humanity; lost across the tracks Original sin that we’ve taken on the chin Sifting thought; we might be welcomed again But knock off the Devil’s dust before you come in
With Summer’s moonlight shining down
We’re not alive to merely appease everyone
Reminder to exist for your soul’s own sake
Basking in the fickle warmth of the rising sun
Released from those winter storms
Contending with heat & humidity down there
Be comfortable in your sovereignty
& thus release yourself from their stares
Do not double back & suffer fools
Stretch to become your complete ability
Expanding your mind to finally believe
& thus be fully & truly free
Perhaps I appear confident in print The paper expands arrogance’s pitch I can hide behind my words for a stint Though the return to reality can be a bitch