i try not to convey, i try not to transcribe
or prescribe an antidote within this, within
this, i can not convey, i can not describe
or capture. I need to emanate, reverberate,
counting beads, digging soil, i want to feed
the fire, i want to feed my fire, your fire
cleanse and cool, all away, in creek beds i
have always known, under skies where i no longer
fear of birds, and bee's and the weeds losing
their homes, of me losing any footing in something
not fabricated but natural, give me rights,
give the land its freedom, and let it know
i will
never
part.
