14.

Well, my soul called again on Friday evening porch,
in brother form, as is so often, and proposed
a grounding, an opening, a releasing and a letting
in of light.
Nothing other than yes.

Swampy hurry blinded us towards (and forwards)
keep getting ready, we drove around in
circles til the clock agreed.
sleepy sweet sleepy sweet exhale, as millions
of trees were just waiting to greet you, good
morning, to sing to you, good afternoon, eat with you,
of the rain dew good night.

we tumble inwards, on around. these rocks,
carrying each other in the lightest moments as
we ascend the sky is calling hello.

still again ohgain your eyes are the balance
I fall into, no matter upwards where we are.