Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Slumbering Campfire Songs

The Hills
Are sleeping giants
With veins in their matrixed Layers.
Up around heaven gods breath sweeps down
And layers clouds in the sky and ground

Underlow, annhilation keeps warm the mountains heart
And before that an arrowed river flows
Both ways with but one single past.

And my past
My past is my own future
Those sleeping giants
And mysterious lands
So quiet as I listen to their still
And beating hearts

I should take comfort in their company
I should hike and explore
Work harder, heal faster
Plant more

But it is winter
It is winter
Wherein most things sleep
Or conserve their energy
A little more towards what's necessary
And less towards delusion.

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