Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Fresh As Youth

I wrote this in the back seat of a pick-up truck, driving through Norcal with a handful of my siblings. The beauty of nature was overpowering, and the joy I felt so tangibly inspired this poem.

I step outside
A foggy box;
A slate-grey state of mind
And on this pavement
I rest my feet,
With pulsing, hot sun
Soaking my soul
As I breathe in the air
Of this day, fresh as youth
With the spirit of green,
Bright twigs on a tall tree
Like a weeping willow wilts
Under sad, sea-foam air
I can touch the clouds
With a sweep of my paintbrush
And I can sing a lullaby
To comfort all the stars
Burning under pressure
Of an endless font
Of midnight blue
Threatening to swallow
Their tiny, blazing bulbs

For in this moment,
I am free
Of the pressures
Of my whole life's roads;
Stop signs fade
To endless streets
That stretch beyond
The slender sprouts,
Fields of wheat
That nourish my heart
And blades of grass
That I walk on for balance
Today I am empty
Today I am full
With nothing more
Than a bright, bright soul
I sparkle like a diamond
I shine like a comet
And now I am one
With this day,
Fresh as youth.

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